A  DAUGHTER 
OF  THE 
REVOLUTION 


CATHERINE  MMM 


t 


A    DAUGHTER    OF 
THE    REVOLUTION 


I'lllLirPINli  MAKIK-Htl.F.NK   UE   FKANCK   (MADAME    ELIZABETH) 
SISTER  OK  LOl'IS  XVI.   (1764-1794). 

(Portrait  by  Madame  Vigee  Le  Brim.) 


A     DAUGHTER     OF 
THE  REVOLUTION 

A    LEADER    OE    SOCIETY 
AT    NAPOLEON'S   COURT 

By 

Catherine   M.   Bearne 

Author   of  "  Early  Valois  Queens,"  "  Pictures  of  the   Old 
French  Court,"  "  The  Cross  of  Pearls " 


NEW  YORK 
E.  P.  BUTTON  AND  COMPANY 

31    WEST    TWENTY-THIRU    STREET 
1904. 


THIS   BOOK 


IS    DEDICATED 


TO    MY    HUSBAND 


ruiNTKI)    IN    (iREAT    HKITAIN] 


THE  TLILKRIliS. 


PREFACE 


IT  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  Laura  Permon, 
afterwards  the  wife  of  General  Junot  and 
Duchesse  d'Abrantes,  was  one  of  the  most  interesting 
women  who  belonged  to  the  Court  of  Napoleon  I. 

And  owing  to  the  literary  pursuits  of  her  later 
years  the  story  of  her  eventful  life,  filled  from 
beginning  to  end  with  romance  and  achcnturc,  can  be 
told  and  realised  more  full}-  than  is  usual  in  such  cases. 

It  was  a  stormy,  brilliant  career,  chequered  with 
good  and  evil  fortune,  poverty  and  splendour,  perils 
and  triumphs  ;  but  it  was  never  dull,  h^or  ciniiii  she 
had  neither  time  nor  inclination. 

When  her  fortune  disappeared  with  her  husband's 
death  and  the  downfall  of  the  Empire,  she  turned  her 
attention  to  literature,  and  besides  various  novels, 
several  of  which  had  at  the  time  a  considerable 
popularit}-,    she    wrote    those    voluminous    and    de- 


viii  PREFACE 

Hghtful  memoirs  to  which  she  owes  her  lasting 
reputation  as  an  author. 

The  first  edition,  in  eighteen  volumes,  treating  of 
the  Revolution,  the  Directory,  the  Consulate,  and 
the  Empire,  was  published  at  Brussels  in  183 1-4; 
a  second  edition  in  twelve  volumes  was  published 
at  Paris  in    1835. 

In  1835-7  she  wrote  the  Memoirs  of  the  Restora- 
tion, also  published  in  Brussels  in  seven  volumes. 
From  these  are  chiefly  drawn  the  materials  for  this 
book  ;  but  I  am  also  indebted  to  various  other  works 
of  that  time,  such  as  "  Memoires  sur  la  vie  privce 
de  Napoleon,"  by  Constant,  "Memoires  de  La  Harpe," 
"  Les  rois  freres  de  Napoleon,"  Napier's  "  Peninsular 
War,"  and  other  books  of  the  kind. 

As  this  book  is  intended  for  the  "  general  reader," 
who,  as  a  rule,  does  not  care  to  wade  through  long 
descriptions  or  many  volumes,  I  have  endeavoured 
to  leave  out  anything  he  might  consider  dry  or 
tedious,  and  to  compress  into  a  single  volume  the 
most  interesting  portions  of  the  life  of  my  heroine 
and  the  most  important  events  in  which  she  was 
concerned. 

With  regard  to  the  way  French  names  should  be 
written  in  English  books,  although,  as  Mr.  Wakeman 
observes,^  it  must  be  to  a  certain  extent  a  matter 
of  custom,  the  names  of  countries,  capitals,  and  a 
few  other  universally  known  places  being  always 
translated,  I  cannot  agree  with  that  most  delightful 
historian  that  this  practice  should  be  extended  to  the 
names  of  ordinary  places  and  of  persons.  To  me 
this  entirely  destroys  the  harmony  of  a  book,  for 
'  "  The  Ascendancy  of  France,"  Preface. 


PREFACE  ix 

after  all  a  man's  name  is  part  of  himself  If  he  is 
French  or  German  or  Italian,  his  name  is  not  IIcnr>' 
or  Frederick  or  Charles,  but  Henri  or  Friederich  or 
Carlo,  as  the  case  may  be.  I  have  even  seen  the 
noble,  picturesque  name  of  "Louis"  transformed  into 
"Lewis"!  In  "Henry  of  Conde,"  "Anthony  (jf 
Bourbon,"  or  "Henry  of  the  Rochejaquelein,"  I  fail 
to  recognise  "Henri  de  Conde,"  "  Antoine  de  Bour- 
bon," and  "  Henri  de  La  Rochejacjuelein,"  nor  could 
I  ever  quite  realise  "  Lorenzo  dei  Medici "  as 
"  Lawrence  of  the  Medicis "  or  "  Masaniello "  as 
"  Thomas  Lamb." 

The  names  of  Laura,  Laure,  or  Laurette  all  go  well 
with  the  French"  Junot  "  and  Portuguese  "Abrantes." 
That  of  Napoleon  is,  of  course,  an  exception.  I 
have  kept  the  Italian  "Buonaparte"  throughout, 
though  it  was  Frenchified  by  Napoleon,  who  dis- 
liked the  idea  that  he  was  not  of  French  parentage. 


THE  STOKMIXG  OF  THE  UASTILLE. 


THE   BAKKICADEb. 


THE  LOrVRK. 


CONTENTS 


PREKACE 


I'AGK 

vii 


CHAPTER    I. 

1784-17S9. 

Madame  Pernion— Her  l)eauly,  royal  descent,  marriage,  and 
Corsican  home — Intimacy  with  the  Buonaparte  family — Birth 
of  Laura — Life  in  Paris  before  the  Revolution — Napoleon 
and  Marianne  Buonaparte — A  banquet  of  evil  omen — The 
beiiinnintr  of  the  Rexolution    ..... 


CHAl'TKR    IL 

1791. 

The  Terror — Escape  of  M.  and  Madame  Permon — Horrible 
scenes — Albert,  Cecile,  and  Laura  Life  at  Toulouse — 
Marriage  of  Cecile      .  .  .  .  .  .20 


xii  CONTEMTS 

CHAPTER    III. 

1793-1795- 
PAGE 
Return  to  Paris — The  Comte  de  Pcrigord  saved  by  his  valet — 
State  of  society — Friendship  of  Napoleon — Alarming  ad- 
venture in  a  mob — Violent  scenes  in  Paris— Fall  of  the 
"Montagne" — An  unwelcome  guest — A  terrible  danger — 
Escape  to  Montpellier  .  .  .  .  .42 

CHAPTER   IV. 

1795-179^- 

Return     to     Paris  —  Renewed     disturbances  —  Death    of     M. 
Permon — The   rising   star  of   Napoleon — His   proposals   to  " 
Madame  Permon — Quarrel  between  them — Death  of  Cecile — 
The  first  Confirmation  and  Communion  since  the  Terror — 
Enthusiasm  of  the  people       .  .  .  .  .69 

CHAPTER  V. 

1 798-1800. 

Triumphs  of  Napoleon  in  Italy — His  kindness  to  Albert — 
Rejoicings  and  /c/es  at  Paris — The  brothers  and  sisters  of 
Napoleon — Josephine — Madame  Permon's  l^all — Pauline  and 
Caroline  .  .  .  .  .  .  .84 


CHAPTER    VI. 

1800. 

The  chauffeurs — Their  fearful  crimes — A  midnight  attack  — 
General  Junot — Betrothal  of  Laura — Generosity  of  Napoleon 
— Laura  insists  upon  being  married  in  church — Her  wedding       95 

CIIAl'TI'.R    \TI. 

1800. 

The  faiiboitri;  St.  Germain  and  the  new  society — A  mixed  party 

— Extraordinary  manners — Indignation  of  Madame  Permon     123 


COXTFXTS  xiii 

CIIAI'TKk  \ni. 
1800. 

I'AGE 

I^ura  presented  at  the  Tiiileries — The  Kirsl  Consul — >Tadanie 
Permon's  invitations — Her  hall — Napoleon  present — His 
conversation  with  her  —  His  conijilaints  of  lerome  .  .      131 

CIIAI'TKK    IX. 

iSoo. 

The  Consular  Court — Josephine  and  M .  Charles — Jealousy 
and  injustice  of  Napoleon — Murat — His  marriage  to  Caroline 
Buonaparte  —  A  military  parade  —  Lucien  Buonaparte — 
Napoleon  and  Madame  ?"oures — Attempt  to  assassinate 
Napoleon — Santerre    ......     144 

CHAITKR    X. 

iSoi. 

La  Malmai.son — The  tailor's  ])ill  —  Marriage  of  Louis  Buonaparte 
and  Hortense  de  Beauharnai.s — Napoleon  and  Laura — The 
theatricals  of  Count  Louis  de  Cobentzel  .  .160 

ClIAl'TKR    XI. 

1801-1S02. 

Adventure  of  Michau  the  actor — An  unlucky  joke — "  We  have 
lost  Egj'pt" — Laura's  first  child  —  Ke-estahlishment  of 
religion — Death  of   Madame  I'ermon  .  .  .      181 

CHAPTER   Xn. 

1802. 

Folly  and  love  affairs  of  Pauline  Leclcrc — Her  courage  at 
St.  Domingo — Liaison  of  Napoleon — Treaty  of  Amiens — 
Birth  of  Laura's  second  daughter — Brilliant  fCtes — The 
Cardinal's  biretta        .  .  .  .  .  .190 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

1S02-1804. 

Dejeuner  and  ball  in  the  Champs-Elysees — A  country  house 
near  Paris — Narrow  escape  of  Laura  and  Caroline  Murat — 


CONTENTS 


PACK 


The  Consulate  for   Life — -Disputes  between    Napoleon   and 
junot — War  with  England         .....     202 

CHAPTER    XI\". 

1S04. 

Junot  and  Laura  at  Arras— Murder  of  the  Due  d'Enghien —  — 
?kIarmont  and  Davoust — ^Proclamation  of  the  Empire  — 
Napoleon  at  Arras — The  Imperial  Court — Elisa  Bacciocchi 
— The  Prince  and  Princess  Borghese — Quarrels  in  the 
Buonaparte  family — Coronation  of  Napoleon — ^Junot  Am- 
bassador to  Portugal — Parting  festivities — New  liaison  of 
Napoleon — Departure  of  Junot  and  Laura — An  old  friend — 
Madrid — ^Journey  to  Lisbon — Jerome  Buonaparte  and  his 
American  wife    .......     220 

CHAPTER   X\'. 

1805. 

Spanish  brigands — The  wood  of  the  confessional — A  nocturnal 
adventure — Lisbon — ^Splendour  of  Laura's  entertainments — 
Her  numerous  friends — The  garden  of  Bemfica — Summer  at 
Cintra — War  rumours — Illness  of  Laura — Departure  of  Junot 
— Trafalgar — Austerlitz — Laura  returns  to  Paris         .  .     238 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

1806. 

The  household  of  Madame  Mere — Junot  Governor  of  I^arma — 
Laura  remains  at  Paris  —  The  love  affairs  of  Pauline 
Ijorghese — Camillo,  Prince  Borghese — "  The  inheritance  of 
tlie  King  our  father" — ^Junot  Governor  of  Paris         .  -251 

CHAPTER   XVH. 

1 806- 1 807. 

The  Chateau  de  Raincy— Life  at  Raincy— The  war— Auerbach — 
Jena— Leipzig— Caroline  Murat — Her  intrigue  with  Junot — 
Remonstrances  of  Laura — Folly  of  Junot— Theatricals  at 
La  Malmaison— Death  of  the  eldest  son  of  Louis  Buona- 
parte—Grief of  Napoleon — His  anger  with  Caroline  and 
Junot  on  his  return— Junot  sent  to  Lisbon  .  .  -265 


COS' TEXTS  XV 

CHAPTER   Win. 
1807. 

P.\(iE 

Princess  Catherine  of  Wurteniberg— Her  reception  at  Raincy — 
Her  marriage  with  Jerome  Huonaparte,  King  of  Westphalia 
— The  Duchesse  de  Chevreuse — Magnificence  of  the  Court — 
Fontainebleau — Liaisons  of  Napoleon — Duroc  antl  Hortense 
— Meeting  of  Napoleon  and  Lucien — Violence  and  tyranny 
of  Napoleon — Courage  of  Lucien — "I  will  not  be  your 
prefect" — Alarming  rumours — Interview  with  Napoleon — 
Junot,  Due  d'Abrantcs  .....     2S2 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

1 808-1810. 

A  melancholy  ball — A  hurried  journey — Meeting  with  Junot — 
"  The  seraglio  of  Junot" — Napoleon's  treatment  of  Madame 
Rccamier — Illness  of  Junot  and  Laura — Cauterets — Hattles 
of  Essling  and  Wagram — Fearful  slaughter — Murmurs  of  the 
people — Divorce  of  Josephine — ^^funot  and  Laura  go  to  Spain     305 

CHAI'TER    XX. 


Burgos — Valladolid — Narrow  escapes  of  Junot — The  horrors  of 
war — News  from  France — The  Empress  Marie- Louise — 
ALassena — Ney — Laura  left  at  Salamanca — Siege  of  Ciudad- 
Rodrigo — Don  Julian — Ledesma— San-Felices-el-Crande— 
Dreadful  hardships — Laura  left  at  Ciudad-Rotlrigo — Terrible 
position — Brutality  of  general  in  command — Birth  of  a  son 
— Continued  hardships  and  dangers — ^^fourney  to  Salamanca — 
The  forest  of  Matilla — Saved  from  Don  Julian — ^Junot 
wounded — Wellington's  letter — Toro — A  Spanish  convent — 
Escape  from  brigands — Return  to  France 

CHAI'TER   XXL 

1811-1S12. 

Joseph  Buonaparte — Changes  in  society — Marie-Louise  -More 
liaisons  of  Napoleon — ^Junot  commands  in  Italy — Laura  at 


CONTEXTS 


PAGE 


Aix-les-Bains — Fch'  dn  Lac  at  Geneva — Defeat  at  Salamanca 
— Laura  returns  to  Paris — Growing  discontent — Sinister 
rumours — Letters  from  Russia — False  despatches — General 
consternation — Return  of  Napoleon — His  harshness  to  Junot     352 


CHAPTER   XXH. 

1S12-1813. 

Dreadful  anxiety — Interview  with  Napoleon — Return  of  Junot — 
His  despondency — Illness  of  Laura — Caricatures  and  Epi- 
grams— ^Junot  Governor  of  Venice  and  lUyria — Battle  of 
Liitzen — Death  of  Bessieres — ^^  Une  ganache" — Death  of 
Duroc — News  of  Junot's  illness — Laura  expects  him^  at 
Geneva — He  is  taken  to  Burgundy — Laura  gives  birth  to  a 
dead  child — Sees  an  apparition— Death  of  Junot — Heartless 
conduct  of  Napoleon — Laura  in  Paris — Brutality  of  Savary  .     369 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

1813. 

Debts  and  difficulties — Friendship  of  Lavalette — Defeat  of 
Leipzig — Approach  of  hostile  armies — Departure  of  Napoleon 
— The  last  triumph — The  vanishing  Empire — Capitulation  of 
Paris — Entrance  of  the  Allies — Office  of  expiation — Abdi- 
cation of  Napoleon — The  Emperor  Alexander^IIe  visits 
Laura — Her  salon — Wellington  —  J^Ietternich  —  Cathcart  -- 
Bernadotte      .......     390 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

1814-1816. 

Cosmopolitan  society  in  Paris — Wellington  and  Bliicher — Laura 
visits  Josephine  at  La  Malmaison — Napoleon's  journey — 
Visits  of  the  Emperor  Ale.xander  to  Laura — Loss  of  all 
her  estates — Her  presentation  at  Court — An  audience  of 
Louis  XVIII. — Laura  gives  a  great  dinner  party — Departure 
of  the  Allies — Return  of  Napoleon — The  Hundred  days — 
The  Restoration  -The  King  of  Portugal's  Bible — The 
adventure  of  Stephanopoli      .....     409 


COS'TKS'TS 


CIIAITKU    X\\. 


1S17-1S38. 


Illness  of  L;iura — Her  journey  lo  Italy — Florence — I'rince 
Metternich  —  Dangers  from  brigands — -Terrible  dee<ls  — 
Arrives  at  Rome — Old  friends  Artistic  and  literary  society 
— Madame  Huonaparte — Cardinal  Fesch — I'auline,  I'rincess 
Horghese — Lucien  Huonaparte — Charlotte,  I'rincess  Ciahrielli 
— ^Jerome  Buonaparte  and  I'rincess  Catherine — Fnchanling 
life — Kindness  of  Tio  Nll.^l'alace  and  villa  of  Lucien — 
Excavations  at  Tusculum — Story  of  the  brigand  dasparone  — 
N'illa  Rufilinella — The  brigand  Decesaris — A  summer  at 
Albano — Return  to  France  —  Life  at  N'ersailles  and  Paris 
— Children,  friends,  society,  literary  career — The  passing 
of  the  tricolor  ...... 


430 


Indkx 


45.1 


THK  IWAI.IDKS. 


THE  ARC  1>E  TRIOMPHE. 


l.A   MALMAISOX 


LIST  OF   ILLL  STRATIONS 


PhII.II'I'INK-MaRIK-HkI.KNK       I)K       1-'RAN'CK       (CALI.Klt 

Madame    Ei-izauki  h),    sistkr    of    Loris    X\'I. 
( I  764-1 794).     {Portrait hx  Madame  Vigce  Le  Bruii) 

Frontispiece 

I'ACIK 

L/ETITIA     BUOXAFARTK    {jn'e    RaAIOLIXO),    MoTHl-.k    l)F 

NaI'OLKOX.     [Belliard)     .  .  .12 

Napoi.kon  at  Arcoi.a.     {Gros)  .  .  -71 

JosKPHiNK,  Empress  OK  1""kance,  ^^'l^■E  of  Napoleon  I. 
{//ee  Tascher  de  la  Paoerh:),  \\'ii/o\v  of 
Alexandre,  \'icomte  de  Beauharnais  (1763- 
18 14).     {Belliard)  .  .  .89 

JuNOT,  Governor  of  Paris  and  Due  d"Ai;r antes  .    loS 
Eugene   de  Beauharnals,  \'kerov  of    Iialn,   Son 

OF  Josephine        .  .  .  .  ■   ^^3 


XX  LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIO\^S 

I'ACE 

Joachim  Murat,  King  of   Naplks.     (Gerard)  .   149 

Louis  Buonapartk,  Kino  of  Holland.     {Gres^^orii/s)  163 

Paulinp:  Buonapartk,  Princp:ss  Borghesk. 

{Bel Hard)       .191 

Hortp:nsk  de  Bp:auharnais,  Daughter  of  Jose- 
phine, AND  Wife  of  Louis  Buonaparte,  King 
OK  Holland.     {Be/Hard)  .  .  .  205 

Elisa    Buonaparte,    Madame    Bacciocchi,    Grand 

Duchess  of  Tuscany.     {Fntdho/i)  .  .226 

Jerome  Buonaparte,  King  of  Westphalia. 

{Kinso/t)     .  236 

Laure  Junot  {;ur  Permon),  Duchesse  d'Ap.rantes. 

{From  a  lif/iograp/i  by  Gavar/ii)      .    247 

Caroline    Buonaparte,  Wife  of  Murat,  King  of 

Naples      .  .  .  .  .  -274 

LuciEN  Buonaparte,  Prince  of  Canino      .  .  293 

M'"'     Recamier.     {Gerard)     .  .  .  .311 

SouLT.     {Rouillard)      .  .  .  .  -33^ 

"L'Espoir  de  la  Postkrite."  The  Emperor 
Napoleon,  Empress  Marie-Louise,  and  Kinc. 
OF   Rome.     {Roehu)  ....  355 

Josi'-.i'ii    Bi'onaparte,   Kino  of  Spain  .  .  396 

Nev       .  .  .  .  .  .  .421 

Till-.   DrriiKssi';   d'Adrantes   in    1836.     {Boilly)  .  4^9 


A   LEADER   OF   SOCIETY   AT 
NAPOLEON'S   COURT 

CHAPTER    I 
1784-1789 

LAURA  PERMON  was  born  at  MontpelHer, 
1784.  Her  father,  Monsieur  Pcrmon,  wlio 
belonged  to  a  family  of  fifUDicc,  had  started  in  life 
with  neither  birth,  money,  nor  connections  to  push 
him  on  ;  but  by  his  intellectual  gifts  and  many 
attractions  had  made  for  himself,  while  still  young,  a 
sufficient  fortune  and  a  good  position. 

His  wife,  a  beautiful  Corsican  of  Greek  descent, 
belonged  to  the  noble  family  of  Comnenus,"^  for 
several  generations  settled  in  that  island.  At  Ajaccio 
he  met  and  fell  in  love  with  her.     He  at  that  time 

'  The  settlement  was  made  in  1676.  The  district  Oi  Paoiiia  was 
given  to  the  Greek  colony,  whose  chief,  Constantine  Comnenus,  and 
his  heirs,  were  looked  upon  as  royal,  wore  violet  and  scarlet,  and 
received  peculiar  honours  from  their  clergy.  They  carried  on  a  feud 
with  the  Corsicans  for  a  hundred  years.  Their  claim  to  royal 
blood  was  recognised  at  the  Court  of  Louis  XVI, 

2  I 


2  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1784-1789 

held  a  post  in  the  administration  of  the  government 
of  Corsica,  which  had  just  been  transferred  by  the 
Genoese  to  France.  After  their  marriage  they  left 
Corsica  and  lived  in  France  for  several  years,  at  the 
end  of  which  M.  Permon  was  sent  to  America  with 
the  French  troops  that  took  part  in  the  war  against 
England.  His  wife,  taking  her  children  with  her, 
returned  to  her  mother,  resolving  to  pass  the  time  of 
their  separation  in  the  home  of  her  childhood,  that 
romantic,  beautiful  land  with  its  southern  sunshine, 
great  forests,  and  snowy  mountains,  to  which  she  was 
passionately  attached. 

The  head  of  her  family  was  then  her  brother. 
Prince  Demetrius  Comnenus,  and  among  the  early 
friends  with  whom  she  renewed  her  intimacy  was 
Lastitia  Ramolino,  now  married  to  Charles  Buona- 
parte, and  the  mother  of  several  sons  and  daughters. 
During  the  absence  of  M.  Permon,  which  lasted 
several  years,  these  young  people  grew  up  in  constant 
companionship  with  her  own  children. 

When  her  husband  returned  she  accompanied  him 
to  Montpellier,  where  he  had  an  appointment  and 
where  their  youngest  daughter,  Laurette,  was  born. 
She  was  their  fifth  child,  but  they  had  lost  two  ; 
there  remained  their  eldest  son,  Albert,  then  sixteen 
years  old,  and  a  daughter  some  years  younger,  named 
C6cile. 

The  day  after  her  confinement  Madame  Permon 
was  seized  with  a  terrible  illness.  For  three  months 
her  sufferings  were  frightful,  and  the  doctors  could 
neither  understand  nor  relieve  them,  when  one  morn- 
ing a  peasant  who  had  come  with  fruit  and  vegetables 
for    the    house,   finding    everybody   in    despair  and 


1 784- 1 789]  AT  X A PO LEON'S  COURT  3 

hearing  what  was  the  matter,  desired  to  speak  to  M. 
Permon.  "  I  do  not  want  any  reward,"  he  said,  "  but 
from  what  your  servants  tell  me,  I  think  I  know  what 
is  the  matter  with  your  wife,  and  if  you  like  I  will 
cure  her  in  a  week." 

On  being  questioned,  he  declared  that  his  remed\- 
was  not  in  the  least  dangerous,  but  that  it  was  a  very 
painful  one. 

M.  Permon  sent  for  the  doctors  and  consulted 
them.  They  advised  him  to  allow  the  experiment  to 
be  tried,  and  Madame  Permon  having  consented,  the 
peasant  departed  for  his  own  home  and  came  back 
the  next  day  with  the  herbs  he  had  gathered. 
Mixing  them  with  beer  and  flour  into  a  sort  of 
paste,  he  heated  it  in  the  oven  and  applied  it  to  the 
part  affected.  As  he  had  said,  the  pain  it  caused 
was  frightful,  but  at  the  end  of  the  week  the  invalid 
was  cured,  though  still  very  weak.  As  for  the  child, 
she  had  entirely  forgotten  its  existence.  One  day, 
however,  four  months  after  its  birth,  she  was  sitting 
on  her  balcony  with  her  husband,  when  the  nurse 
passed  underneath  carrying  the  baby,  which  had 
been  carefully  kept  at  a  distance,  as  M.  Permon 
feared  that  his  wife's  sufferings  had  made  her  take  a 
dislike  to  it,  and  that  that  was  the  reason  she  never 
mentioned  it.  But  with  a  sudden  exclamation 
Madame  Permon,  in  great  agitation,  asked  her  hus- 
band whether  she  had  had  a  child  and  if  that  were 
it.  Her  delight  on  its  being  brought  to  her  knew 
no  bounds,  and  from  that  moment  Laurette  was  her 
idol  from  whom  she  could  never  bear  to  be  separated. 

In  1785  they  established  themselves  at  Paris, 
where  M.  Permon  bought  himself  a  place  ^.s  fcniiicr- 


4  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i 784-1 789 

general.  Cecile  was  educated  in  a  convent,  but 
Laurette  was  brought  up  at  home. 

The  Permons  lived  in  a  large  hotel  on  the  Qiiai 
Conti,  went  a  great  deal  into  society,  and  entertained 
at  home,  giving  dinners  on  a  certain  day  of  every 
week,  according  to  the  prevailing  custom.  The  salon 
of  Madame  Permon  was  very  popular  with  their 
numerous  friends,  of  whom  the  greater  part  belonged 
to  the  faiiboufg  St.  Gcrniam^  but  amongst  whom 
were  also  to  be  found  officials  of  the  Government, 
personages  of  "  finance,"  scientific  and  literary  men. 

Madame  Permon  was  a  strange  mixture  of  talent 
and  ignorance.  She  was  even  heard  to  declare  that  she 
had  never  read  any  book  but  "  Telemaque,"  and  yet 
was  a  thorough  woman  of  the  world,  with  manners 
and  conversation  as  fascinating  as  her  beaut}', 
possessing  to  perfection  what  Napoleon  afterwards 
called  "/'«r/  ele  tenir  salon." 

The  old  regime  was  rapidly  drawing  to  a  close  ; 
already  the  dark  clouds  that  were  to  usher  in  the  new 
one  were  gathering  on  the  horizon.  It  was  a  time  of 
excitement  and  restless  anxiety,  people's  minds  were 
unsettled,  there  was  a  general  feeling  of  uncertainty 
and  changes  to  come ;  while  amongst  the  masses 
sullen  anger  and  discontent  were  steadily  growing 
and  assuming  a  more  threatening  attitude.  Society 
in  I'rance  was  divided  into  opposite  camps.  Those 
who  held  to  the  old  regime  regarded  with  horror  and 
dismay  the  new  ideas  and  practices  which  seemed 
everywhere  to  be  arising  ;  and  to  this  party  belonged 
for  the  most  part  the  French  nobles  and  gentlemen, 
the  clergy,  and  the  peasantry  in  some  of  the  provinces, 
especially  in  the  west. 


1784-1789]  AT  XAPOLEOXS   COURT  5 

The  party  of  the  new  regime  was  composed  of 
many  shades  and  varieties,  the  most  violent  and 
reckless  of  whom  were  advancint^  with  rapid  steps 
towards  the  Revolution.  The  moderate  sections  com- 
prised many  persons  who  were  discontented  with  the 
present  state  of  things  either  from  some  private 
grievance  or  from  philosophic  or  benevolent  reasons  ; 
whose  ideal  was  a  constitution  like  the  English, 
which  they  vainly  imagined  possible  to  establish  in 
France  ;  who  hailed  with  delight  the  dawn,  as  they 
supposed,  of  liberty  and  fraternity,  but  would  have 
shrunk  with  horror  from  the  bloodshed  and  cruelt\- 
for  which  they  were  unconsciously  paving  the  way. 
To  one  or  other  of  these  sections  belonged  a 
sprinkling  of  the  more  lax  and  freethinking  of  the 
clergy,  a  few  nobles  and  gentlemen,  either  niauvais 
snjcts,  like  Orleans  and  Mirabeau,  or  generous  young 
enthusiasts  such  as  Noailles  and  Lafayette  ;  many 
literary  men,  most  of  the  professional  and  mercantile 
classes,  and  the  artisans,  small  shopkeepers,  and  other 
inhabitants  of  Paris  and  the  larger  towns,  who  after- 
wards formed  the  furious  and  bloodthirsty  mobs  of 
atrocious  memor}'. 

During  the  first  part  of  their  life  at  Paris,  Monsieur 
and  Madame  Permon  held  opinions  directl\'  opposite 
to  those  which  might  have  been  expected  from  their 
early  associations.  Although  belonging  to  a  simple 
bourgeois  family  without  an\'  claim  to  ancient  blood, 
he  was  by  nature  and  education  a  refined  and  culti- 
vated gentleman,  with  studious  habits  and  quiet  in- 
tellectual tastes.  The  manners,  principles  and  aims 
of  the  revolutionary  party  were  alike  abhorrent  to 
him. 


6  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1784- 1789 

She,  on  the  contrary,  noble  by  birth,  but  the  wife 
of  an  official  of  finance,  in  spite  of  her  social  success 
occasionally  met  with  some  slight  vexation  or  dis- 
advantage which  irritated  and  induced  her,  like  many 
other  women  in  the  same  position,  to  join  in  desiring 
the  abolition  of  privileges  and  distinctions  of  caste. 

With  the  growing  spirit  of  atheism  and  blasphemy 
which  characterised  the  revolutionary  party,  neither 
of  the  Permons  had  any  sympathy.  How  deeply  a 
large  portion  of  French  society  was  thus  tainted 
may  be  gathered  from  the  following  account  of  a 
dinner-party  given  early  in  the  year  1786  by  a  rich 
and  learned  member  of  the  Academy  to  a  large  and 
brilliant  circle  of  guests,  including  many  of  the  most 
distinguished  names  in  the  social,  political,  and  lite- 
rary world.  The  banquet  was  magnificent,  and  after 
applause  had  greeted  the  impious  and  licentious  tales 
of  Chamfort,  the  conversation  became  more  and  more 
animated,  and  amidst  jests  and  laughter  and  the 
drinking  of  healths  might  be  heard  the  praises  of 
Voltaire  and  Diderot  mingled  with  scoffs  and  gibes 
against  religion.  One  man  declared  that  he  was  as 
certain  there  was  no  God  as  that  Homer  was  a  fool ; 
another,  with  shouts  of  merriment,  said  that  his 
barber,  while  powdering  his  hair,  had  remarked  to 
him,  "  You  see,  sir,  that  although  I  am  but  a  poor, 
miserable  barber,  I  have  no  more  religion  than 
anybody  else  ?  " 

It  was  agreed  that  the  Revolution,  which  was  to 
destroy  superstition  and  fanaticism  and  establish  the 
reign  of  pure  reason,  must  be  near  at  hand  ;  the  older 
part  of  the  company  lamented  the  improbability  of 
their  living   to  enjoy  it ;    the  younger   rejoiced   that 


1 784-1 789]  '1'^'  NAPOLEO\'-S  COURT  7 

they  were  likely  to  have  that  i:)rivilege.  One  of  the 
c^iiests,  who  had  hitherto  sat  silent  and  pre-occupied, 
taking  no  part  in  what  was  going  on,  now  rej^lied  in 
a  grave  and  decided  tone — 

"  Be  satisfied,  gentlemen,  you  will  all  see  this  great, 
sublime  Revolution  which  you  so  much  admire.  You 
know  that  I  am  given  to  pro[jhecy — and  I  repeat  that 
you  will  see  it." 

"  One  need  not  be  a  conjuror  to  know  that,"  was 
the  retort. 

"  That  may  be,"  replied  the  former,  whose  name 
was  Cazotte,  "  but  perhaps  one  must  be  a  little  more 
than  a  conjuror  for  what  remains  for  me  to  tell  you. 
Do  you  know  what  will  be  the  consequence  of  this 
Revolution  to  all  of  you  who  are  here  present  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  the  infidel  Condorcet  with  a  con- 
temptuous smile  ;  "  let  us  hear.  A  philosopher  is  not 
afraid  of  a  prophet." 

"  Monsieur  de  Condorcet,  you  will  die  on  the  floor 
of  a  prison,  of  poison  which  you  will  have  taken  to 
avoid  execution^from  poison  which  the  Jiappiiicss 
of  that  time  will  oblige  you  to  carry  about  }-our 
person." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  after  which  it  was 
recollected  that  Cazotte  was  knov/n  to  be  a  visionary, 
gifted  with  second-sight,  professing  to  possess  power 
to  foretell  the  future.  There  was  a  general  laugh, 
followed  by  exclamations  against  such  gloomy 
prognostications. 

"  What  has  filled  your  head  with  prisons  and 
poisons  and  executions  ?  "  cried  one.  "  What  has  all 
that  to  do  with  the  reign  of  reason  and  philosophy  ?  " 

"  That  is  what   I    tell  you.     It  is  in  the  name  of 


8  A    LEADER   OE  SOCIETY  [1784-1789 

philosophy — of  humanity — of  liberty,  in  the  reign  of 
reason  that  these  things  will  happen  to  you  ;  and  it 
will  be  the  rei^n  of  reason  indeed,  for  she  will  have 
her  temples,  and  there  will  be  no  others  in  France." 

"  jlfa/oi  !"  cried  Chamfort,  with  a  sarcastic  laugh  ; 
"  you  will  not  be  one  of  their  priests  !  " 

"  But  j/ou  will,  M.  de  Chamfort ;  and  you  will  open 
your  veins  with  twenty-two  cuts  of  a  razor,  but  you 
will  not  die  till  some  months  afterwards.  You,  M. 
Vicq  d'Azir,"  he  continued,  turning  to  an  eminent 
physician,  "  will  not  open  your  own  veins,  but  you  will 
cause  yourself  to  be  bled  six  times  in  one  day  during 
a  paroxysm  of  gout,  to  make  sure  of  your  end,  and 
you  will  die  in  the  night.  You,  M.  de  Nicolai,  M. 
Bailly,  M.  de  Malesherbes,  M.  Roueler,  will  die  on 
the  scaffold " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  chorus  of  incredulity  and 
disapproval.  "  Shall  we  then  be  conquered  by  Turks 
or  Tartars  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  As  I  have  told  you,  you  will  only  be 
conquered  by  philosophy  and  reason.  They  who 
treat  you  so  will  all  be  philosophers  with  the  self- 
same phrases  upon  their  lips  which  you  have  been 
putting  forth  for  the  last  hour.  They  will  repeat  all 
your  maxims  and  quote  Diderot  and  La  Pucelle  as 
you  do." 

"  He  must  have  gone  mad  !  "  whispered  one. 

"  Don't  you  see  that  he. is  joking?  "  asked  another. 
"  And  you  know  his  jokes  have  always  a  good  deal 
of  the  marvellous." 

"  Yes  ;  but  his  marvellousness  is  not  cheerful,"  said 
Chamfort,  "  it  has  too  much  of  the  gallows  about  it. 
And  when  will  all  this  happen  ?  " 


17H4-1789]  ''^T  NAPOLEOXS  COURT  9 

"  Six  years  will  not  have  passed  before  all  that  I 
have  told  you  shall  be  accomplished." 

"  Extraordinar\-  miracles  indeed  !  Ikit  you  have 
not  included  me  in  \'our  list,"  said  La  Harpe,  who 
himself  gives  these  details  in  his  memoirs. 

"But  you  will  be  there  as  an  equally  astonishing 
miracle.     You  will  be  a  Christian." 

"  Ah,  well  !  I  am  comforted,"  observed  Chamfort. 
"  If  we  are  only  to  perish  when  La  Harjje  is  a 
Christian,  we  are  immortal." 

In  repl}-  to  the  Duchesse  de  Grammont's  remark 
that  women  were  not  likely  to  suffer  in  a  revolution, 
he  assured  her  that  she  would  go  to  the  scaffold,  with 
many  other  ladies,  in  the  cart  of  the  executioner,  with 
their  hands  tied  behind  them. 

"  Ah  !  I  hope  that  in  that  case  I  shall  have  a 
carriage  hung  with  black." 

"  No,  Madame  ;  higher  ladies  than  you  will  go  like 
you  in  the  cart  of  the  executioner  with  their  hands 
tied  behind  their  backs." 

"Higher  ladies!  What!  the  princesses  of  the 
blood  ?  " 

"  Still  more  exalted  personages." 

A  sensation  of  terror  fell  upon  the  assembly,  and 
the  darkening  countenance  of  the  host  proclaimed 
that  the  jest  had  gone  too  far.  Wishing  to  appear 
indifferent  to  the  growing  apprehension,  the  Duchess 
said  carelessly — 

"  You  see  he  will  not  even  leave  me  a  con- 
fessor." 

"No,  Madame,  you  will  not  have  one  ;  neither  you 
nor  any  one  besides.  The  last  victim  to  whom  this 
favour  will  be  granted  will  be " 


lo  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1784-1789 

"  Well !  who  then  will  be  the  happy  mortal  to 
whom  that  prerogative  will  be  given  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  only  one  he  will  have  retained,"  was  the 
gloomy  answer — "  The  King  of  France."  ^ 

Every  one  rose  hastily  ;  the  master  of  the  house, 
approaching  Cazotte,  remonstrated  with  him  in  a 
tone  of  deep  emotion. 

Cazotte  made  no  reply,  but  turned  in  silence  to 
leave  the  room.  As  he  did  so,  the  Duchesse  de 
Grammont  observed  that  he  had  told  them  their 
fortunes  but  said  nothing  of  his  own  ;  whereupon  he 
reminded  her  of  the  siege  of  Jerusalem  and  of  the 
man  who  for  seven  days  went  round  the  ramparts 
crying,  "  Woe  to  Jerusalem  !  woe  to  myself!  "  until  a 
great  stone  struck  and  destroyed  him. 

So  saying,  M.  Cazotte  bowed  and  retired. 

He  perished  as  he  had  predicted,  in  the  Revolution, 
He  was  arrested  and  liberated,  but  refused  to  share 
the  joy  of  his  family,  telling  them  that  in  three  days 
he  should  again  be  arrested  and  perish,  which,  like  his 
other  predictions,  proved  to  be  true. 

This  extraordinary  story  is  verified  not  only  by  La 
Harpe,  but  by  the  Comtesse  de  Beauharnais,  Vicq 
d'Azir,  and  others  who  were  present,  by  the  son  of 
Cazotte,  and  by  Madame  de  Genlis  and  many  others 
who  heard  it  told  before  the  Revolution. 

Laurette,  or  Loulou  as  she  was  called  at  home, 
was  petted  and  spoiled  by  all  her  mother's  friends 
who  frequented  the  stately  sa/on  on  the  Cj/zaz  Coiiti^ 
and  who  used  to  bring  her  presents  of  bon-bons  and 
costly  playthings. 

'  La  llarpc  :  Maiioircs,  vol.  i.,  p.  63.     I'aiis,  1806. 


1784-17^^9]  -''^'  i\. I  POL  EON'S  COURT  11 

Amongst  those  whom  she  regarded  with  tlic 
greatest  affection  was  the  old  Comtc  de  Pcrigord, 
who  had  been  Governor  of  Languedoc  and  with 
whom  Madame  Permon  had  begun  a  friendship  at 
MontpelHer  whicli  lasted  for  the  rest  of  their  lives. 
He  was  cordon  bleu  and  a  perfect  specimen  of  the 
best  type  of  a  great  French  noble.  His  eldest  son, 
the  Prince  de  Chalais,  resembled  him.  His  younger 
son  used  to  cause  him  much  annoyance  by  a  mania 
for  everything  English.  He  had  been  in  England, 
ever  since  which  he  would  have  neither  servants, 
horses,  carriages,  nor  even  saddles  or  whips  that  were 
not  English,  and  although  speaking  the  language 
very  badly  he  would  be  heard,  on  leaving  the  theatre, 
to  call  out  to  his  servants  "  Perigord  House." 

The  Comtesse  de  Perigord  had  been  a  beauty  of 
the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  That  monarch  fell  in  love 
with  her  and  wanted  to  make  her  his  mistress,  but  as 
she  did  not  wish  anything  of  the  kind,  she  retired 
from  Court  until  he  had  transferred  his  attentions 
to  somebody  else.  Her  daughter,  the  Duchesse  de 
Mailly,  was  one  of  the  ladies  of  Marie  Antoinette. 

As  soon  as  Madame  Permon  had  established  her- 
self at  Paris,  she  made  inquiries  after  Napoleon,  the 
second  son  of  her  friend  Madame  Buonaparte,  then  at 
the  Ecolc  Militaire.  Her  brother.  Prince  Demetrius 
Comnenus,  told  her  he  had  met  him  directly  he 
arrived,  and  taken  him  home  to  dine. 

"  I  met  him  in  the  Palais-Rox'al,"  said  Comnenus, 
"  looking  about  him  with  his  nose  in  the  air — exactly 
the  sort  of  figure  to  have  his  pocket  picked.  The  lad 
seemed  to  me  to  be  rather  sullen  and  more  conceited 
than  is  desirable.     He  declaims  against  the  luxury  of 


12 


A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i 784-1 789 


the  cadets,  and  talks  about  a  memorial  he  wants  to 
write  on  the  subject  and  send  to  the  Minister  of 
War.       All    that   will    only    make     his    companions 


I..KTirrA   nuOXAPARTK  (NEE  RAMOLINO),   RIOTHliR  OK  NAPOI.EOX. 
(Bclliarcl.) 

take    a    dislike    to   him    and    will    probably    lead    to 
duels." 

Napoleon  was,  in   fact,  at    this   time   an   irritable, 
touchy,  discontented  lad  ;  unhappy  on  account  of  his 


17H4-1789]  '^T  XAPOLEOX'S   COUNT  13 

poverty  and  inferior  position  in  the  college.  His 
father  had  died  at  Montpellier  in  the  house  of  the 
Permons,  who  had  fetched  him  from  the  inn  where 
he  was  staying  and  nursed  him  with  the  utmost  kind- 
ness. Madame  Buonaparte,  left  with  eight  children 
and  very  little  money,  was  thankful  to  have  her 
eldest  daughter,  Marianne,  placed  at  Saint  Cyr  as 
"  e/eve  de  Saint  Loitis,"  and  her  son  Napoleon  in  the 
Ecolc  Militairc.  Tlie  brother  and  sister  were  boiirsicrSy 
educated  at  the  expense  of  the  State,  and  as  at  both 
these  institutions  there  were  children  of  noble  and 
rich  families  who  had  plenty  of  pocket-money  and 
everything  they  wanted,  the  contrast  was  often  pain- 
ful, especially  when  there  was  a  question  of  an\- 
subscription  among  the  pupils.  The  Permons  were 
very  kind  to  them  both.  M.  Permon,  who  knew  all 
the  authorities  at  the  Acole  JMilitaire,  often  got 
Napoleon  leave  to  go  out,  and  he  was  always  welcome 
to  spend  as  much  time  as  he  chose  on  the  Qitai  Conti 
with  his  friend  Albert  Permon,  who  was  about  his 
own  age  and  at  the  same  college.  Madame  Permon, 
whose  attachment  to  Corsica  and  to  her  earl)-  friends 
never  varied,  was  anxious  that  her  son  should  be 
intimate  with  Napoleon,  but  Albert,  who  had 
inherited  the  good  qualities  and  charming  manners 
of  both  his  parents,  at  first  assured  them  that  it  was 
impossible  ;  that  in  spite  of  all  his  attempts  Napoleon 
remained  cold  and  reserved  and  seemed  embittered 
by  his  dependent  position. 

His  mother  suggested  that  the  fault  might  be  in 
his  way  of  going  about  it,  but  his  father  replied  that 
he  was  not  to  blame,  but  that  Napoleon,  conscious 
that  in  Corsica  the  two  families  had  been  in  the  same 


14  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1784-1789 

position,  fretted  at  the  difference  now  between  his 
own  lot,  a  boursier  at  the  college,  poor  and  isolated, 
while  Albert  was  well  off,  surrounded  with  indulgence, 
and  constantly  amongst  his  own  relations.  Madame 
Permon  replied  that  if  Napoleon's  way  of  going  on 
was  caused  by  envy  he  must  be  a  stupid,  ill-con- 
ditioned boy  ;  but  her  husband  observed  that  it  was 
human  nature,  and  that  he  was  no  worse  than  others. 

"  Why  has  he  been  in  a  perpetual  rage  ever  since 
he  came  to  Paris  ?  Why  is  he  always  raving  about 
the  '  indecent  luxury '  of  his  companions  ?  Because 
at  every  moment  their  position  contrasts  with  his. 
He  thinks  it  ridiculous  that  these  young  fellows 
should  have  servants  because  he  has  none ;  he 
objects  to  entertainments  because  he  cannot  sub- 
scribe to  them.  I  heard  the  other  day  from 
Dumarsay,  the  father  of  one  of  his  companions,  that 
a  dejeuner  was  to  be  given  to  one  of  the  masters,  and 
that  each  of  the  pupils  was  to  ^\v&  a  subscription 
much  too  large  for  those  boys ;  Napoleon  is  quite 
right  there.  Well,  I  went  to  see  him  and  found  him 
more  gloomy  than  usual.  I  guessed  why,  so  I  offered 
to  give  him  the  sum  required.  He  became  first  red, 
then  pale,  and  refused." 

"  You  must  have  gone  the  wrong  way  about  it," 
said  Madame  Permon.     "  Men  are  so  awkward." 

"  When  I  saw  the  boy's  high  spirit,"  continued  her 
husband,  "  I  invented  a  lie,  for  which  God  will  doubt- 
less pardon  me.  I  told  him  that  when  his  father 
died  in  our  arms  at  Montpellier  he  gave  me  some 
money  to  be  given  to  him  on  any  occasion  when  he 
might  need  it.  He  looked  at  me  fixedly,  and  replied 
that  since  the  money  came  from  his  father  he  would 


1784-1789]  •''^'  NAPOI.EOX-S  COURT  15 

take  it,  but  he  could  not  have  accepted  a  loan,  as  his 
mother  had  already  too  many  expenses,  which  he 
ought  not  to  increase  for  his  own  personal  debts, 
especially  if  they  were  caused  by  the  stupid  folly  of 
his  companions." 

His  sister  was  not  so  scrupulous.  One  day  Madame 
Permon,  her  brother,  Prince  Comnenus,  and  Napoleon 
went  to  Saint  Cyr  to  see  Marianne.  She  came  to  the 
parloir  looking  very  sad,  and  having  evidently  been 
crying.  When  asked  what  was  the  matter,  her  tears 
broke  out  afresh  as  she  explained  that  a  certain 
Mademoiselle  de  Montluc  was  going  to  leave  school, 
and  the  other  girls  intended  to  give  a  sort  of  farewell 
luncheon  part)'  in  her  honour.  Marianne  had  not 
enough  money  to  pay  her  subscription  like  the  rest. 

"  I  have  only  six  francs  left,"  she  sobbed,  "  and  my 
allowance  won't  be  paid  for  six  weeks.  If  I  give  the 
six  francs  I  shall  have  nothing  left ;  besides,  it  is  not 
enough." 

Napoleon  made  a  movement  to  put  his  hand  in  his 
pocket,  but  recollecting  that  he  had  no  money,  he 
stopped,  blushed,  and  stamped  his  foot  impatiently 
on  the  ground. 

Madame  Permon  gave  her  the  ten  or  twelve  francs 
required,  and  when  they  were  seated  in  the  carriage 
on  their  way  home,  Napoleon  broke  into  indignant 
remarks  on  the  detestable  management  of  the 
Government  schools  and  colleges,  such  as  Saint  C)'r 
and  the  Rcolc  Militairc ;  and  his  language  became 
so  violent  and  abusive  that  Comnenus,  who  was 
naturally  hasty,  exclaimed,  "  Hold  your  tongue  !  It 
is  not  your  place,  when  }'ou  are  being  educated  by  the 
charity  of  the  King,  to  speak  as  you  are  doing." 


1 6  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1784- 1789 

Napoleon  turned  crimson  and  then  pale,  and  in  a 
voice  trembling  with  anger  replied — 

"  I  am  not  the  pupil  of  the  King,  but  of  the 
State  ! " 

"A  fine  distinction!"  cried  Comnenus.  "What 
does  it  signify  whether  you  are  a  pupil  of  the  King 
or  the  State  ?  Besides,  the  King  is  the  State,  and  I 
will  not  allow  you  to  speak  so  of  your  benefactor 
before  me." 

"  I  will  say  nothing  to  displease  you,  Monsieur  de 
Comnenus,"  replied  Napoleon,  "  only  if  I  were  master 
and  made  the  regulations  they  would  be  altered  for 
the  general  good." 

Long  afterwards  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  who 
never  forgot  the  mortifications  of  his  youth,  entirely 
reorganised  the  administration  of  the  military 
schools. 

While  he  was  at  the  college  he  was  disliked  both 
by  his  superiors  and  companions,  who  declared  him 
to  be  so  unsociable  that  it  was  impossible  to  make 
friends  with  him,  and  that  he  did  nothing  but 
grumble  and  find  fault.  The  consequence  was  to 
hasten  the  time  of  his  exchange  from  the  college  to 
a  regiment.  There  was  a  unanimous  entreaty  for 
his  departure,  a  sub-lieutenant's  commission  in  an 
artillery  regiment  was  given  to  him,  and  he  was  sent 
to  Grenoble. 

Before  he  left  Paris  he  spent  some  days  with  the 
I'ermons.  Cccile,  then  a  child  of  twelve  or  thirteen, 
was  being  educated  at  the  Convent  of  the  Dames  de 
la  Croix,  but  often  came  home  for  holidays.  She 
and  Laura,  who  was  much  younger,  were  in  the  room 
when  he  entered,  wearing  his  uniform   for  the  first 


1 7^4-1 7^9]  -iT  NAPOLEOX'S  COURT  17 

time  with  pride  and  delii^ht.  lint  unfortunately  his 
boots  were  enormously  large,  and  as  his  legs  hajjpened 
to  be  remarkably  small  and  thin,  they  gave  him  a 
most  ridiculous  appearance,  so  that  Cecile  and  Laura 
fell  into  uncontrollable  fits  of  laughter,  which  made 
him  very  angry  ;  but  they  only  laughed  all  the  more, 
and  Cecile  answered,  "  Now  that  you  wear  a  sword 
you  ought  to  be  the  ' chevalier  dcs  dames',  and  think 
yourself  lucky  that  they  should  joke  with  }-ou." 

"  It  is  easy  to  see  that  you  are  nothing  but  a  little 
schoolgirl,"  replied  Napoleon. 

"  And  you  are  nothing  but  a  puss-in-boots,"  retorted 
Cecile. 

Napoleon  became  still  more  angr\-,  but  as  Madame 
Permon  joined  in  the  general  laugh  he  said  nothing. 
A  day  or  two  afterwards  he  brought  Laura  a  toy  he 
had  caused  to  be  made  on  purpose  for  her,  representing 
puss-in-boots  running  before  the  carriage  of  the 
Marquis  de  Carabas,  and  for  Cecile  a  beautifully 
bound  copy  of  the  story  of  "  Puss-in-boots,"  on 
seeing  which  Madame  Permon  observed — 

"  The  story-book  is  de  trap,  Napoleon.  The  play- 
thing for  Loulou  is  all  very  well,  but  the  story  for 
Cecile  proves  that  you  have  not  forgiven  her." 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  state  of  affairs  grew 
more  and  more  threatening.  Every  one  seemed  to 
be  living  in  an  atmosphere  of  fear  and  foreboding, 
but  no  real  measures  of  precaution  or  defence  against 
the  coming  danger  were  adopted — -it  was  like  the 
calm  of  stagnation  that  often  precedes  a  fearful 
tempest. 

It  was  the  5th  of  May,  1789,  when  the  States- 
General  held  their  first  sitting.     The  day  before,  the 

3 


1 8  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [i 784-1 789 

three  estates,  nobles,  clergy,  and  tiers-ctat,  or  deputies 
of  the  people,  were  to  repair  to  Versailles  to  attend 
Mass  at  the  church  of  Saint  Louis.  It  was  to  be  an 
imposing  sight,  and  Madame  Permon  was  anxious  to 
see  it.  M.  Permon  would  not  go.  He  disapproved 
strongly  of  the  States  being  assembled  just  then, 
when  the  two  parties  were  so  inflamed  against  each 
other  that  danger  was  sure  to  arise. 

Madame  Permon,  however,  accompanied  by  her 
son  and  another  officer,  and  taking  Laura  with  them, 
drove  to  Versailles  through  the  shouting,  rejoicing 
crowds,  whose  hopes  and  expectations  were  centred 
in  the  new  Parliament.  Every  one  seemed  to  be 
animated  by  the  same  joyful  confidence  ;  well- 
dressed  women  waving  their  handkerchiefs,  the 
people  cheering  frantically  as  the  deputies  passed  ; 
everywhere  a  scene  of  enthusiasm. 

Madame  Permon,  who  had  many  friends  in  all  the 
three  orders,  looked  on  with  eager  interest  and 
sympathy.  Laura  was  delighted  with  the  splendid 
show,  but  Albert  remarked  the  sullen,  hostile  faces  of 
the  deputies  of  the  ticrs-ctat,  and  thought  of  his 
father's  words.  On  their  return,  he  told  him  his 
impression,  which  M.  Permon  repeated  on  the 
following  day  to  Necker,  of  whom  he  was  a  friend, 
exclaiming — 

"  Ah !  what  a  mistake  they  have  made  in  con- 
voking that  assembly  in  such  a  stormy  time  as  this  !  " 

"It  is  not  my  fault,"  replied  Necker;  "and  yet  I 
am  responsible  for  it." 

M.  Permon's  predictions  were  only  too  quickly 
fulfilled.  The  violence  of  the  opposing  parties 
in  the  new  Parliament  only  accelerated  the  calamity 


1784-1789]  .'7'  NAPOLEONS  COURT  19 

it  had  been  hoped  it  would  avert,  and  on  the  14th 
of  July  the  Revolution  broke  out,  in  all  its  horror 
and  fury,  with  the  storming  of  the  Bastille  and 
the  murder  of  its  garrison.  During  the  weeks  and 
months  that  followed,  life  at  Paris  was  like  a  per- 
petual nightmare.  One  alarming  event  rapidly 
succeeded  another.  On  the  ist  of  October  a  banquet 
was  given  at  Versailles  by  the  King's  bodyguards  to 
the  ycgiiiient  de  Flandrc,  in  the  hall  of  the  opera,  at 
which  the  King,  Queen,  and  Dauphin  appeared. 
Their  entrance  was  the  signal  for  a  frenzy  of  loyal 
demonstration.  The  band  struck  up  the  Royalist  air, 
"'  Richard !  O  man  Rot,''  the  young  officers  climbed 
into  the  boxes,  maids  of  honour  and  ladies  of  the 
Court  tore  up  their  handkerchiefs  to  make  them 
white  cockades,  the  tricolour  was  trampled  under 
foot. 

When  the  news  of  \.\\\s  fcic  became  known  at  Paris 
it  aroused  the  rage  of  the  populace.  Furious, 
threatening  crowds  thronged  the  road  to  Versailles, 
and  on  the  0th  the  terrible  procession  re-entered 
Paris  escorting  the  unfortunate  Ro)-al  family. 

M.  Permon,  beside  himself  with  grief  and  horror, 
was  anxious  to  go  to  Versailles,  but  his  wife,  putting 
Laura  into  his  arms,  with  tears  and  entreaties 
implored  him  not  to  leave  them,  till  at  length  he 
yielded  to  her  representations.  They  closed  the 
shutters  of  the  great  salon,  which  looked  on  to  the 
Qicai  Conti,  before  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and 
remained  indoors  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  trembling  at 
the  cries  and  tumult  outside. 


CHAPTER    II 
1791 

IT  would  be  scarcely  possible  now  to  realise  the 
constant  anxiety,  alarm,  and  tension  in  which 
for  so  long  a  period  people  at  that  time  went  on  living. 
There  could  be  no  peace  or  security  night  or  day  ; 
it  was  dangerous  to  express  unpopular  opinions,  and 
still  more  dangerous  to  make  an  enemy,  howev^er 
apparently  insignificant.  Sometime  in  the  year  1791 
a  man  named  Thirion  set  up  a  little  upholsterer's 
shop  near  M.  Permon's  house,  and  called  to  ask 
for  his  custom.  The  valet-de-diavibre  of  Madame 
Permon  replied  that  they  had  already  an  upholsterer, 
whom  they  certainly  should  not  leave  for  a  new  one  ; 
whereupon  the  fellow  became  so  violent  and  abusive 
that  M.  Permon,  hearing  the  noise  he  was  making, 
came  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  turned  him  out 
of  the  house,  observing  that  he  was  not  only  mad  but 
insolent.  He  soon  forgot  all  about  it,  but  Thirion 
vowed  vengeance  on  him  and  his  family. 

In  the  following  year  M.  Permon,  alarmed  at  the 
aspect  of  affairs,  made  a  journey  to  England  accom- 
panied by  his  son,  taking  with  him  a  sum  of  money 
which  he  had  realised  in  order  to  place  it  safely  in 
London    while    the    route   was    still    open.      Having 


I79i]  .1    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  21 

transacted  his  business,  and  not  likin^^  to  remain 
longer  than  a  few  weeks  away,  he  returned  to  France, 
leaving  Albert  with  orders  to  await  his  instructions, 
which  he  did  in  much  anxiety  for  a  fortnight,  at  the 
end  of  which  he  got  a  letter  from  his  father,  telling 
him  to  take  a  letter  he  enclosed  to  his  man  of 
business  in  London  and  then  return  at  once  to 
France.  When  he  arrived,  on  the  morning  of  the 
9th  of  August  he  found  that  iiis  fatlicr  had  fought  a 
duel  with  one  of  the  officers  of  his  regiment  who  had 
spoken  slightingl}-  of  his  political  opinions  in  his 
father's  presence.  As  to  M.  Permon,  whohad  fought 
plenty  of  duels  and  was  said  to  be  de  la  premiere  foi'cc, 
an  affair  of  the  kind  troubled  him  very  little  ;  he 
considered  it  impossible  to  allow  remarks  to  the 
disadvantage  of  his  son  to  be  made  before  him,  but 
he  concealed  the  matter  from  his  wife  lest  she  should 
be  frightened,  and  from  the  public  because  it  was 
safer  not  to  draw  too  much  attention  to  one's  pro- 
ceedings just  then.  The  duel  took  place  in  the  wood 
of  Meudon ;  I\I.  Permon  was  unhurt  and  his  opponent 
wounded  in  the  arm.  Paris  had  just  been  divided 
into  sections,  and  in  the  one  in  which  his  house  was 
situated  the  upholsterer,  Thirion,  was  an  inlluential 
personage. 

One  morning  soon  after  his  return,  as  he  was 
dressing,  a  domiciliary  visit,  ordered  by  the  Commune, 
was  announced,  directed  by  Thirion,  who  presented 
himself  at  the  door  of  his  dressing-room  attended  by 
three  others — his  two  brothers  and  his  shop-boy. 

The  sight  of  this  man  so  irritated  M.  Permon  that 
he  imprudently  advanced  with  a  threatening  gesture 
and  his  razor  in  his  hand,  for  he  was  shavin^^ 


22  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

"  I  am  here  to  carry  out  the  law,"  cried  Thirion. 

"  Well,  and  what  does  the  law  wish  to  express  by 
such  a  respectable  agent  ?  " 

"  I  am  here  to  know  your  age,  your  qualifications, 
and  the  reasons  for  your  journey  to  Coblentz  ?  " 

M.  Permon,  who,  ever  since  he  saw  the  fellow,  had 
been  longing  to  kick  him  out  of  the  house,  was 
speechless  with  anger.  He  laid  down  his  razor  and 
turned  to  the  intruder,  crossed  his  arms,  and  stood 
looking  at  him  in  silent  contempt.  At  last  he  said, 
"  You  want  to  know  my  age  ?  " 

"  Yes,  those  are  my  orders." 

"  Where  are  your  orders  ? "  asked  M.  Permon, 
holding  out  his  hand.     "  Show  them  to  me." 

"It  is  enough  for  }'ou  to  know  that  I  am  sent  by 
the  committee  of  my  section  ;  my  presence  here 
proves  it." 

"  You  think  so  ?  Well,  I  think  the  contrary.  Your 
presence  in  my  house  is  an  insult,  unless  it  is  justified 
by  an  official  order.  Show  it  to  me,  and  I  shall 
forget  the  man  and  onl}'  recognise  the  public 
functionar}'." 

"  I  tell  you  again,"  shouted  Thirion,  "that  you  have 
no  occasion  to  see  my  order.  Once  more,  will  you 
answer  my  questions?  What  is  your  age?  What 
are  your  qualifications  ?  What  did  you  go  to  Coblentz 
for  ?  " 

"  And  you,  once  more,  will  you  show  me  the  order 
by  virtue  of  which  you  violate  my  domicile  ?  " 

"It  is  enough  for  \'ou  that  I  am  here.  What  is 
your  age  ?  " 

"If  you  ask  me  such  a  question  on  the  part  of  a 
pretty  woman,  I  am  five-and-twenty.    Otherwise,"  he 


I79i]  .IT   XAPOf.EOXS    COrh'T  23 

continued,  L^ivincj  way  to  his  indignation  and  seizing 
a  large  bamboo  cane,  "  1  will  teach  you  tiiat  I  am 
quite  young  enough  to  thrash  insolent  fellows,"  and 
as  he  spoke  he  whirled  the  stick  over  the  hearls  of 
Thirion  and  his  acolytes. 

Serious  consequences  might  have  followed  had  not 
Madame  Permon  come  in  at  that  moment  and  con- 
trived to  get  her  husband  away  into  another  room. 
Thirion  departed  with  many  threats,  while  ]\Iadame 
Permon  and  Cecile  tried  to  calm  M.  i^ermon. 

Presently  Napoleon  Buonaparte  entered  the  saloi, 
where  he  only  found  Laura,  who  was  crying.  He 
tried  to  comfort  her,  and  asked  what  was  the  matter. 
When  the  child  told  him  what  had  happened,  he  went 
and  knocked  at  the  door  of  her  father's  dressing-room, 
where  the  matter  was  explained  to  him. 

"  How  abominable  !  "  he  e.Kclaimed.  "  How  in- 
famous !  P^our  men  to  come  into  the  house  without 
producing  an  order  to  legalise  it !  But  you  must 
complain.  It's  evident  from  what  }'ou  tell  me  that 
the  fellow  has  had  a  spite  against  }'ou  for  some 
time,  and  thinks  this  is  a  good  opportunity  to  revenge 
himself  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost ;  I  will  sec  about 
it,  leave  it  to  me." 

Buonaparte  left  the  house  and  went  to  the  com- 
mittee of  the  section,  to  whom  he  spoke  strongl)'  of 
what  had  taken  place,  but  he  saw  at  once  that 
Thirion  had  been  beforehand  with  him.  However, 
he  did  not  allow  that  to  prevent  his  sax'ing  what  he 
chose,  but  represented  that  the  man's  refusal  to  show 
his  order  might  have  had  disastrous  consequences,  for 
if  M.  Permon  had  shot  him  he  would  have  been 
within  his  right  as  defending  his  domicile. 


24  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

Napoleon  returned  to  the  Permons,  and  said  that 
there  was  so  much  agitation  going  on  all  around  that 
he  could  not  do  much,  but  advised  them  to  be  on 
their  guard.  However,  the  terrible  events  that  almost 
immediately  took  place  drove  every  lesser  matter  out 
of  people's  minds. 

The  affair  of  Thirion  happened  early  in  August, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  9th  Albert  arrived  from 
England.  Cecile  had  left  the  convent  and  was  now 
living  at  home,  where  the  usual  preparations,  so  far 
as  was  possible  at  such  a  time,  had  been  made  for 
Laura's  fe/e  which,  as  there  was  no  S^*^-  Laure  or 
Laurette,  was  observed  on  the  loth  of  August,  the 
fete  St.  Laurent.  Madame  Permon  wished  it  to 
be  a  day  of  which  the  child  should  have  a  happy 
remembrance,  so  her  young  friends  were  already 
invited  to  celebrate  it,  and  from  morning  till  night 
her  little  white  bedroom  was  filled  with  flowers,  toys, 
and  bon-bons.  But  now  festivities  and  rejoicings 
were  far  enough  from  every  one's  thoughts.  From 
the  early  hours  of  the  morning  the  increasing  tumult 
filled  the  household  with  terror  ;  the  crash  of  artillery, 
shouts  and  cries,  the  groans  of  the  wounded  who 
were  carried  past  under  the  windows. 

Leaving  the  house  shut  up,  M.  Permon  and  Albert 
went  out  to  see  if  they  could  be  of  use  to  any  of  their 
friends  who  might  be  in  danger. 

About  midday  Albert  came  in,  bringing  with  him 
one  of  his  brother-officers  disguised  in  the  great-coat 
of  a  bourgeois.  The  poor  fellow  had  eaten  nothing 
for  forty-eight  hours.  They  were  looking  for  him, 
and  if  they  found  him  he  would  certainly  be  murdered. 
His  family  were  under  great  obligations  to  the  Queen, 


I79i]  -IT   XAPOf.FOX'S   COrRT  25 

and  he  had  hitely  fought  three  duels  in  her  defence, 
in  two  of  which  he  had  killed  his  oi^ponent.  lie  was 
in  deadly  peril.  Madame  Permon  and  Albert  hid 
him  in  Laura's  little  room,  giving  the  child  careful 
instructions  what  to  sa)'  if  she  were  questioned.  It 
was  her  first  lesson  in  prudence  and  caution. 

But  the  day  passed  on  and  M.  Permon  did  not 
return.  His  wife  and  children  waited  in  terror  and 
anxiet)'  hour  after  hour,  Madame  Permon  crying  and 
wringing  her  hands,  Albert  going  every  few  minutes 
to  the  por/e  cocherc  to  look  out.  Owing  to  the  isolated 
position  of  the  house  he  was  tolerably  safe  there,  and 
even  ventured  out  on  to  the  qiiai,  but  could  learn 
nothing  of  his  father.  He  was  told  of  the  slaughter 
of  the  Swiss  guards,  the  storming  of  the  Tuileries,  the 
flight  of  the  weak,  vacillating  Louis  and  the  royal 
family  to  the  Assembly.  The  fury  of  the  conflict 
seemed  to  have  abated,  the  firing  was  less  frequent, 
but  still  scattered  shots  were  to  be  heard  every  now 
and  then,  while  groups  of  drunken,  furious  men  and 
women  roamed  through  the  streets  yelling  and  shout- 
ing out  horrible  blasphemies  and  threats.  Twilight 
was  gathering  when  at  last  Albert  saw  a  figure  come 
cautiously  round  the  corner,  looking  carefully  about 
him  on  all  sides.  At  once  he  recognised  his  father, 
who  stopped  on  seeing  some  one  watching  at  the 
door,  but  on  Albert's  calling  to  him  as  loudly  as  he 
dared  M.  Permon  came  forward  cjuickly,  told  him  to 
keep  the  door  open,  and  turned  back  into  the  street 
round  the  corner  to  fetch  a  tall  man  whom  he  had 
left  under  shelter  in  the  Arcade  de  la  Monnaic.  The 
man  could  hardly  walk,  but  leaned  on  the  arm  of 
M.  Permon,  who  brought  him  in  with  great  care  and 


26  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

helped  him  into  his  bedroom,  desiring  all  to  keep  as 
quiet  as  possible  and  do  what  they  could  to  help  him. 
When  he  threw  off  the  military  cloak  in  which  he  was 
wrapped  they  recognised  an  old  friend,  M.  de  Bevy, 
one  of  the  superior  officers  of  the  gardcs-dti-corps^  pale, 
exhausted,  and  covered  with  blood. 

"  Poor  Loulou  !  "  he  exclaimed,  on  seeing  the 
trembling  child,  "  it  is  a  sad/^V^  for  you.  Great  God! 
what  difete  !"  His  head  sank  on  his  breast,  overcome 
more  by  the  terrible  events  of  the  day  than  by  his 
physical  sufferings.  There  was  no  chance  of  any 
one's  escape  that  night,  during  the  whole  of  which 
bands  of  ruffians,  mad  with  wine  and  blood,  were 
parading  the  streets  outside  with  curses  and  cries. 

Next  morning  came  a  messenger  from  the  valet  of 
Albert's  friend,  telling  his  master  that  he  was  in  great 
danger,  as  search  was  being  made  for  him  everywhere. 
Then  Albert  recollected  that  an  influential  person 
whom  he  knew  lodged  near  at  hand.  To  him  he 
went,  and  by  his  permission  and  assistance  the  young 
officer  vvas  first  hidden  in  a  safer  place,  and  four  or 
five  days  later  enabled  to  escape  to  Germany. 

As  to  M.  de  Bevy,  he  resolved  to  try  to  get  to 
London,  and  M.  Permon  was  occupied  in  writing  him 
a  letter  of  credit  to  take  with  him — for  the  house  was 
no  longer  safe,  and  he  must  get  away  as  soon  as 
possible — when  a  footman  came  in  saying  that  the 
butcher  they  employed,  who  was  in  the  Garde 
Nationale,  but  a  respectable,  trustworthy  man,  had 
come  to  warn  M.  Permon  that  he  had  been  denounced 
for  giving  refuge  to  the  enemies  of  the  people,  adding 
that  he  was  sure  no  one  could  wish  to  hurt  him  as  he 
gave  so  much  employment  and  did  no  harm  to  any 


i79i]  AT  X A PO LEON'S  COURT  27 

one,  but  he  had  better  be  on  his  guard.  More  than 
that  the  butcher  dared  not  say,  and  M.  Permon,  who 
was  never  afraid  of  anything,  would  not  pay  any 
attention  to  his  words.  II(jwever,  about  an  hour 
afterwards  a  friend  arrived  with  a  still  more  urgent 
warning  and  the  promise  of  a  passport  for  M.  and 
Madame  Permon  to  one  of  the  southern  towns,  for  it 
was  all-important  to  get  them  out  of  Paris.  This 
friend  also  promised  to  come  and  fetch  them  and  get 
them  safely  out  of  the  city,  but  said  it  was  out  of  the 
question  to  take  any  one  else. 

Madame  Permon  was  distracted  between  the 
necessity  of  going  with  her  husband  and  the  horror 
of  leaving  her  children  at  Paris  at  such  a  time.  But 
there  was  not  a  moment  to  lose,  and  it  was  decided 
that  Cecile  and  Laura  should  be  placed  in  some 
obscure  school  and  that  Albert  should  lodge  near 
them  and  look  after  them.  M.  de  Bcv)-  had 
found  another  refuge.  Hurried  preparations  were 
accordingly  made,  and  that  same  evening,  after  a 
heartrending  farewell  between  the  parents  and  chil- 
dren, who  knew  that  it  was  very  possible  they 
might  never  meet  again  in  this  world,  M.  and 
Madame  Permon  left  Paris,  and  the  two  girls  were 
sent  to  a  school  in  the  ;7/r  (/u  faubourg  St.  Antoiuc, 
kept  by  the  Demoiselles  Chevalier. 

It  was  a  new  experience  for  them  both.  Laura 
had  never  been  away  from  home  before,  and  to 
Cecile,  though  she  had  been  brought  up  at  a  convent, 
there  was  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between  the 
household  and  establishment  of  the  Danics  dc  la 
Croix  and  the  second-rate  school  to  which  it  was 
considered    safest   to   send    them,  a   religious    hous^ 


28  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1791 

at  such  a  time  being,  of  course,  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. 

Laura,  who  had  never  seen  such  a  place,  when  she 
found  herself  without  her  nurse,  surrounded  by 
strangers  and  discomforts,  cried  bitterly.  Cccile, 
who  was  old  enough  to  understand  the  peril  of  their 
position,  tried  to  forget  her  own  sorrow  to  console 
her  little  sister.  Albert  and  their  nurse,  Renesson, 
paid  them  frequent  visits.  Shocked  to  find  that  they 
had  sour  apples,  cheese,  and  other  coarse  food  given 
them,  she  shed  many  tears,  and  insisted  on  bringing 
them  such  quantities  of  grapes,  peaches,  pears  and 
cakes  that  Albert  was  obliged  to  diminish  her  sup- 
plies for  fear  of  compromising  the  girls. 

The  only  happy  hours  the}'  had  were  during 
these  visits,  and  after  a  short  time  they  observed 
that  their  brother  had  become  much  more  de- 
pressed and  sad.  They  begged  him  to  tell  them 
what  was  the  matter,  and  he  replied  that  their 
father  had  been  denounced  in  the  section  in  a 
manner  that  rendered  his  position  still  more 
dangerous.  The  fact  was  that  he  had  been  told 
that  M.  and  Madame  Permon  had  been  arrested 
at  Limoges  and  were  being  brought  back  to  Paris. 
However,  this  fortunately  turned  out  to  be  untrue. 

It  was  then  the  end  of  August,  and  affairs  in  Paris 
grew  worse  and  worse.  Albert  drove  every  day  to 
see  his  sisters  in  a  carriage  his  father  had  lately  had 
built.  It  was  a  cabriolet,  very  high  and  smart-look- 
ing, and  was  called  a  "  wiskey  "  ;  and  its  appearance, 
with  the  livery  which,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances 
of  Cccile,  he  persisted  in  making  the  servant  who 
accompanied  him  wear,  excited  the  an^ry  attention 


I79I]  -iT  XAPOLEON'S  COURT  29 

of    the    mob    as    he    passed    through    the    fauhoun^ 
St.  Antoinc. 

The  Demoiselles  Chevalier  had  in  their  em- 
ployment a  man  named  Jacquemart,  who  did  all 
the  rough  work  of  the  house.  He  was  useful 
enough,  as  he  seemed  able  to  turn  his  hand  to  any- 
thing, but  so  hideously  ugly  and  with  an  expression 
so  sinister  that  Albert  and  his  sisters  regarded  him 
almost  with  horror. 

One  day,  soon  after  their  arrival  at  the  school, 
Jacquemart  was  carrying  in  some  wood  when  Albert 
drove  up  at  such  a  pace  that,  although  he  called  to 
him  to  look  out,  the  man,  who  was  heavily  laden, 
could  not  get  out  of  the  way  in  time.  Seeing  this, 
Albert,  at  considerable  risk  to  himself  and  his  horse, 
pulled  uj)  so  suddenly  that  Jactjuemart  escaped  with- 
out any  injury  but  a  slight  bruise  on  the  leg,  and  as 
he  saw  clearly  what  happened,  he  from  that  moment 
vowed  gratitude  to  young  Permon. 

It  was  the  31st  August,  and  although  that  da\'  he 
had  little  or  nothing  to  do  at  the  place,  Jacquemart 
was  hanging  about  the  courtyard  and  the  entrance  of 
the  pension  Chevalier  from  morning  till  evening,* 
watching  for  Albert,  who  on  that  occasion  happened 
to  come  later  than  usual.  As  he  got  down  from  his 
cabriolet  Jacquemart  came  up  to  him  and  said — 

"  Don't  go  home  this  evening.  Stay  here  and  take 
care  of  your  sisters." 

Albert  looked  at  him  with  surprise.  He  knew  that 
an  attack  was  expected  that  same  evening,  but  he 
thought  it  would  be  directed  towards  the  Temple — 
then  the  prison  of  the  Royal  family. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 


30  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

"  I  advise  you  to  sleep  here,"  replied  Jacquemart. 
"  You  will  be  near  your  sisters,  and  if  they  stand  in 
need  of  protection — well,  we  shall  be  ready." 

Albert,  however,  did  not  take  his  advice,  but  gave 
him  an  assignat  of  twenty-five  francs,  went  in  to  see 
his  sisters,  and  then  returned  home. 

The  next  day,  September  ist,  was  the  eve  of  the 
massacres  at  the  prisons.  News  that  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick's  army  had  crossed  the  frontier,  and  had 
even  fought  a  successful  battle  at  Longvvy,  excited 
the  Parisians  to  still  greater  ferocity  ;  arrests  and 
murders  were  going  on  all  over  the  town.  Dread- 
fully alarmed  for  his  sisters,  Albert  came  to  the 
school  to  see  them  at  considerable  risk  to  himself 
Jacquemart  was  standing  at  the  door  of  the  court- 
yard, looking  a  most  frightful  ruffian ;  the  Demoiselles 
Chevalier  were  terrified  at  his  appearance  but  afraid 
to  send  him  away.  The  girls  were  all  dreadfully 
frightened. 

"  I  did  not  tell  you  to  come  here  to-day,  but  to 
stop  here  !  "  he  cried  when  he  saw  Albert.  "Why  did 
not  you  attend  to  me  ?  " 

"And  why  did  you  tell  me  any  such  thing?" 
returned  Albert.  "  Is  Mademoiselles  Chevalier's 
house  especially  threatened  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  at  such  a  time  of  horror  as  this 
there  is  everything  to  fear,"  answered  Jacquemart. 

Something  not  only  in  these  words,  but  in  the  tone 
of  voice  and  expression  of  the  man's  eyes,  struck 
Albert.  The  voice  was  refined  and  cultivated  ;  the 
expression  was  compassionate,  even  gentle. 

"You  arc  a  good  master  and  a  good  brother,"  con- 
tinued this  strange  individual,  "  therefore  you  cannot 


1791]  -iT  X.irOLEON'S  COl'RT  31 

fail  in   your  duty  to  these  poor   little  things.     They 
have  no  one  at   Paris  but  you.      Is  not  that  so?" 

It  was  late,  and  all  over  Paris  cries  and  groans 
were  heard.  Mademoiselle  Chevalier  invited  Albert 
to  remain  that  night,  but  he  refused,  saying  that  he 
would  come  back  in  the  morning.  Cccile  was 
terrified  at  Jacquemart  in  spite  of  what  her  brother 
told  her,  and  the  danger  of  going  through  the  streets 
was  very  great  ;  however,  Albert  persisted  in  going 
home,  as  he  had  to  finish  arranging  some  papers  left 
by  his  father.  They  took  a  long  time  to  arrange,  so 
that  when,  the  next  day,  he  had  burned  all  those 
marked  b\'  his  father  to  be  destro}'ed,  looked  over 
the  rest  and  put  them  safely  a\va\',  it  was  already 
three  o'clock. 

Then  he  got  into  his  cabriolet,  with  his  servant 
b\'  his  side,  and  drove  towards  the  faubourg  St. 
A)itoine.  The  town  was  in  a  frightful  state.  They 
kept  meeting  groups  of  miscreants  half  naked  and 
stained  with  blood,  carrying  on  their  swords  and 
pikes  pieces  torn  from  the  clothes  of  their  victims, 
their  inflamed  faces,  haggard  eyes,  and  horrible 
expression  making  them  hideous  to  behold. 

The  farther  he  went  the  more  numerous  they 
were,  and  Albert,  in  desperate  fear  for  his  sisters, 
from  whom  he  had  so  rashly  allowed  himself  to  be 
separated,  pushed  on  as  fast  as  he  could,  resolved 
to  get  to  them  at  all  hazards.  At  last  the  cabriolet 
was  stopped  b}'  a  crowd  of  these  blood-stained 
villains,  who  were  howling,  singing,  and  dancing. 
They  looked  like  devils.  Calling  out  that  here  was 
an  aristocrat,  they  surrounded  the  cabriolet  with 
frightful  yells.     At  that  moment  a  head  with  long, 


32  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

fair  hair,  raised  on  a  pike,  approached  Albert  till  it 
touched  his  face,  and  with  a  terrible  cry  he  recog- 
nised the  head  of  the  Princess  de  Lamballe.  He  fell 
senseless  on  to  the  bottom  of  the  cabriolet,  while  his 
servant  urged  on  the  horse,  knocking  over  the 
ruffians  who  stood  nearest,  and  driving  as  hard  as  he 
could,  feeling  all  the  time  that  a  man  had  got  up 
behind  them,  and  hoping  he  would  fall  off.  How- 
ever, when  they  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  Demoi- 
selles Chevalier  the  man  jumped  down,  took  the 
insensible  form  of  Albert  in  his  arms  as  if  he  had 
been  a  child,  and  carried  him  into  the  house,  mut- 
tering, "  Monsters !  they  have  killed  him  too,  poor 
lad  ! " 

It  was  Jacquemart.  Who  he  was  and  what  he  was 
doing  there  was  a  mystery  that  was  never  solved. 
It  was  evident  that  he  had  no  bad  intentions,  and  the 
Permons  always  supposed  that  he  was  concealing 
himself  in  this  disguise.  He  disappeared,  and  they 
saw  him  no  more. 

Albert  meanwhile  had  been  carried,  pale  and 
senseless,  into  the  house,  to  the  terror  of  h-is  sisters 
and  the  rest  of  the  household.  The  shock  brought 
on  a  serious  illness,  during  which  he  was  nursed  in 
the  house  of  a  doctor,  and  his  mother  was  communi- 
cated with  at  once. 

Madame  Permon,  who  was  at  Toulouse  with  her 
husband,  soon  returned  to  Paris  to  look  after  her  son. 
When  he  was  well  enough  to  be  moved  she  set  off 
for  Toulouse,  taking  all  her  three  children,  escorted 
by  M.  de  Luppc,  a  friend  of  her  family. 

Their  journey  having  been  accomplished  in  safety, 
Madame  Permon  looked  about  for  an  apartment,  and 


I70I]  AT   XAPOLFOX'S   COURT  33 

finally  established  herself  and  her  household  in  one 
of  those  enormous  old-fashioned  hotels  built  round  a 
great  courtyard,  with  ample  room  to  accommodate 
four  families,  one  of  whom  occupied  one  side  or  end. 
Each  was,  in  fact,  like  a  separate  house,  with  its  own 
entrance,  hall,  and  staircase.  The  I'ermons  were 
fortunate  enough  to  get  one  of  these,  and  to  settle 
themselves  in  it  for  the  present. 

M.  Permon's  health  had  been  seriously  affected 
by  all  he  had  gone  through,  and  there  was,  of  course, 
no  society  just  then.  Almost  everybody  had  either 
lost  some  near  relation  or  was  in  deadly  fear  for  one 
or  more  in  prison  or  in  exile  ;  and  the  more  retired 
and  quiet  people's  lives  were  the  safer  it  was  for 
them.  Although  they  had  escaped  from  Paris,  the 
danger  was  by  no  means  at  an  end.  The  fury  of  the 
Revolution  was  raging  at  Toulouse  also.  The  pro- 
consul, a  venomous  little  scoundrel  and  a  violent 
Jacobin,  soon  began  to  annoy  them  and  cause  them 
much  uneasiness,  but  by  good  luck  they  had  a  friend, 
a  Corsican  named  Salicetti,  who  was  powerful  and 
influential  enough  to  protect  them  if  he  chose,  and 
was  now  at  Paris  engaged  in  the  trial  of  the  King.  It 
was  true  that  there  had  been  a  coolness  between 
them  in  consequence  of  some  discussion  which  took 
place  at  the  Permons'  house  in  Paris ;  still  he  was  an 
old  friend  and  a  countryman,  and  to  him  Madame 
Permon,  after  some  consideration,  decided  to  write. 
It  was  well  that  she  did  so,  for  they  were  in  a 
dangerous  position.  M.  Permon  was  in  extremely 
bad  health,  and  Albert  was  so  delicate  that  if  he 
were  forced  to  join  the  army  he  would  probably 
die   of  consumption.     B)-  the   next   post   arrived  a 

4 


34  A    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

letter  from  Salicetti,  in  which  he  assured  them  of  his 
satisfaction  in  being  able  to  help  them.  He  wrote 
and  recommended  them  to  the  especial  protection  of 
the  authorities  of  Toulouse,  made  Albert  his  own 
secretary,  and  sent  him  his  nomination  and  three 
months'  leave  of  absence.  It  was  then  about  Christ- 
mas time. 

The  trial  of  the  King  caused  the  greatest  anxiety 
and  grief  to  M.  Permon,  and  his  execution  filled  him 
with  profound  depression.  He  wanted  to  go  back  to 
Paris  to  see  if  he  could  not  do  something  at  least  for 
Madame  Elizabeth,  to  whom  he  was  deeply  grateful 
for  some  kindness  and  help  he  had  received  from  her 
in  past  years.  Madame  Permon  represented  that  it 
would  only  be  throwing  away  his  life  to  no  purpose. 

"  You  will  destroy  yourself  and  do  her  no  good," 
she  said,  with  tears,  when  he  was  on  the  point  of 
setting  off  for  Paris.  "You  cannot  possibly  save 
her  ;  and  what  is  to  become  of  your  children  ?  " 

M.  Permon  allowed  his  wife's  entreaties  to  prevail 
and  remained  at  Toulouse,  shut  up  in  the  house 
writing  a  book  on  education  and  teaching  Laura, 
who  was  the  only  person  always  allowed  to  be  with 
him.  The  child  would  sit  silently  studying  while 
his  fits  of  melancholy  dejection  lasted.  There  was 
a  great  difference  between  the  ages  of  the  three 
surviving  children  of  M.  and  Madame  Permon  ; 
Albert  being,  when  they  took  up  their  abode  at 
Toulouse,  twenty-four  years  old,  Cccile  sixteen,  and 
Laura  nine. 

They  remained  at  Toulouse  until  the  fury  of  the 
Revolution  had  abated — eventful  years  full  of  excite- 
ment  and   emotions.     The    powerful    protection    of 


I79i]  'iT  XAPOLEOXS   COURT  35 

Salicetti  ensured  their  safety  ;  they  found  and  made 
a  small  circle  of  friends,  and  the  old  southern  town, 
with  its  ancient  houses,  grey  cathedral,  and  lovely 
walks  by  the  river  and  in  the  neighbourhood,  very 
soon  seemed  friendly  and  familiar  to  them.  M. 
Permon  never  left  it  during  that  time,  but  Albert 
was  away  at  Paris  with  Salicetti,  and  on  one  occasion 
Madame  Permon,  after  an  attack  of  inflammation  of 
the  lungs  which  left  her  chest  delicate,  went  to 
Cauterets  in  the  Pyrenees,  taking  Cccile  and  Laura 
with  her,  to  their  great  delight. 

M.  Permon  could  not  go  with  them,  not  being 
then  allowed  to  leave  Toulouse.  His  health  did 
not  improve,  and  the  perpetual  seclusion  in  which 
he  lived  began  to  excite  attention  and  comment,  and 
to  constitute  a  fresh  danger  for  himself  and  his  family. 

The  Procureur  dc  la  Conunune  was  a  certain 
Conder,  a  shoemaker,  who  though  a  violent  republi- 
can was  an  honest  man  and  had  befriended  them  on 
several  occasions,  having  received  from  Madame 
Permon  a  promise  that  they  would  not  emigrate. 

One  day  he  came  to  see  her  and  warned  her  that 
disquieting  reports  about  her  husband  were  going 
about  the  town. 

"  It  is  said,"  remarked  Conder,  "  that  he  is  satu- 
rated with  aristocracy.  I  declared  that  it  was  not 
true,  but  that  he  was  a  good  republican.  Of  course  I 
know,"  he  added,  with  a  smile,  "that  that  is  not 
exactly  so,  but  one  can't  always  tell  the  exact  truth. 
But  if  you  will  take  my  advice,  force  the  dtoyc?i 
Permon  to  go  to  the  theatre  now  and  then.  If  he 
would  do  me  the  honour  to  accept  a  place  in  my 
box "  and  he  hesitated  in  some  embarrassment. 


36  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

Touched  by  the  kind  intentions  of  the  man, 
Madame  Permon  caught  him  by  the  hand  and  ex- 
pressed her  gratitude,  promising  that  they  would 
accept  his  invitation.  But  it  was  not  so  easy  to 
manage  her  husband,  who,  when  he  heard  her  pro- 
position, remained  silent,  and  on  her  asking  im- 
patiently what  he  was  going  to  do,  replied  with 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulders — 

"  What  a  question  ?  What  would  you  have  me 
do  ?  The  citoyen  Conder  invites  the  citoyen  Permon 
to  his  box  at  the  theatre  ;  therefore  he  must  go  there, 
since  it  is  better  than  being  dragged  to  prison,  for  I 
have  the  choice,  I  suppose?  It  is  another  Thirion  ! 
Oh  !  Marie,  Marie,  could  you  not  have  spared  me  this  ?" 
And  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room  in  despair. 

"  Charles,"  said  Madame  Permon,  "you  are  making 
a  mistake.  Is  it  likely  that  I  should  have  enter- 
tained a  proposal  that  could  be  insulting  to  you  ?  Of 
course  not.     Conder " 

"  My  dear  Marie,"  interrupted  her  husband  im- 
patiently, "  let  the  man  make  you  some  shoes,  but 
let  me  hear  no  more  about  his  box  at  the  theatre. 
I  am  tired  of  it." 

He  said  no  more,  and  Conder  was  told  that  he  was 
too  ill.  It  was  fortunate  that  although  the  worthy 
proc247r2ir  saw  clearly  enough  how  the  matter  stood, 
he  did  not  resent  it,  or  at  any  rate  took  no  steps 
to  revenge  himself,  as  he  might  easily  have  done. 
Soon  afterwards  Madame  Permon  received  a  letter 
from  Salicetti  warning  her  that  there  were  rumours  of 
Royalist  plots  and  conspiracies,  that  her  husband  was 
an  object  of  suspicion  owing  to  his  persisting  in 
shutting  himself  up  in  the  way  he  did,  and  that  it 


i79i]  AT  MAPOLEOX'S  COURT  37 

was  absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  at  any  rate 
receive  people  at  his  house.  "  Your  s.i/on  was 
charming  at  Paris,  why  should  it  not  be  the  same 
at  Toulouse?  " 

At  last  M.  Permon,  to  whom  she  showed  this 
letter,  perceived  the  danger  to  which  his  obstinacy 
was  exposing  them  all,  and  consented  to  open  his 
house.  Madame  Permon  knew  a  great  many  people 
in  Toulouse  by  this  time,  and,  as  Salicetti  had  pre- 
dicted,  her  sa/on  was  soon  as  popular  as  before. 

She  had  met  in  Toulouse,  by  chance,  a  cousin  of 
hers,  a  Signorina  Stephanopoli,  who  had  left  Corsica 
and  married  a  French  naval  officer,  M  de  Saint- 
Ange.  He  had  retired  and  bought  a  chateau  near 
Toulouse,  where  he  lived  with  his  wife  and  children. 

The  cousins  were  delighted  to  find  each  other 
again,  and  frequenth'  met  and  talked  about  old 
times  and  their  beloved  Corsica. 

"  Well,"  said  Madame  de  Saint-Ange  one  day,  "  it 
seems  there  is  one  of  L?etitia  Ramolino's  sons  who 
is  getting  on  well.  I  should  not  wonder  if  some  day 
he  were  to  be  a  general  dc  division.  I  should  never 
have  guessed  it.  I  should  always  have  thought  that 
the  one  to  raise  the  family  would  be  Joseph.  And 
the  Archdeacon " 

"  Oh  !  do  let  the  Archdeacon  alone  !  "  exlaimed 
Madame  Permon.  "  It  was  bad  enough  to  hear 
everybody  always  talking  about  him  in  Corsica." 

"  Well,  the  Canon,  then,  if  the  word  Archdeacon 
annoys  you,"  replied  Madame  de  Saint-Ange,  laugh- 
ing. "  He  is  their  uncle,  and  authority  enough  in  the 
family  for  me  to  quote  him  about  the  children  ;  and 
he  thinks,  as  I  do,  that  Joseph  is  the  one  formed  to 


38  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1791 

distinguish  himself.  See  how  handsome  he  is  and 
what  charming  manners  he  has,  whereas  Napoleon, 
although  he  is  your  protege,  is  as  ugly  as  a  penguin, 
as  obstinate  as  a  mule,  and  very  rude  besides." 

The  Permons,  after  the  warning  of  Salicetti,  went 
into  society  and  entertained  a  good  deal.  One 
evening  they  were  going  to  have  a  dinner-party, 
and  amongst  others  they  expected  was  M.  de 
Regnier,  commandant  of  the  place,  an  old  soldier 
whom  M.  Permon  particularly  liked.  Half  an  hour 
before  dinner  he  sent  a  note  saying  that  a  friend 
of  his  had  just  arrived,  having  been  sent  to  him  on  a 
matter  of  business,  and  as  he  could  not  leave  him 
he  must  beg  to  be  excused.  Madame  Permon  asked 
him  to  come  and  bring  his  friend  with  him,  observing 
to  her  children  that  an  adjutant-general,  a  friend 
of  M.  de  Regnier,  was  sure  to  be  some  tiresome 
old  man  who  would  spoil  the  party.  They  had 
intended  to  have  music,  which  he  would  not  care  for  ; 
he  would  have  to  play  reversi.  "  An  old  infantry 
officer  can  always  play  reversi,  and  always  cheats 
too,"  she  added. 

Albert  was  just  then  at  home  on  leave,  and  was 
devoted  to  music.  He  played  duets  with  Cccile, 
who  was  a  pupil  of  Hermann,  a  brilliant /m///^/^  and 
a  very  attractive  girl.  Without  regular  beauty,  she 
was  slight  and  graceful,  with  fair  complexion,  dark 
blue  eyes,  and  the  cJieveux  blonds  eejidres  so  much 
admired  in  France. 

When  M.  de  Regnier  arrived,  instead  of  a  tire- 
some old  man,  his  friend  proved  to  be  a  very  good- 
looking  young  one,  extremely  fond  of  music.  Cccile 
was   dressed   in    pink   crepe ;    she  played,  sang,  and 


i79i]  'if  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  39 

looked    like   an    angel — at   least    in    the   opinion    of 
M.  de  Geouffre,  who  immediately  fell  in  love  with  her. 

Next  day  he  called  on  Madame  Permon,  and 
after  that  he  came  perpetually,  sometimes  with 
M.  de  Regnier,  sometimes  without  him. 

Madame  Permon  saw  with  disapprobation  the 
reason  of  these  constant  visits.  Both  she  and  her 
husband  had  the  strongest  objection  to  a  son-in-law 
in  the  Republican  army,  and  yet  she  was  afraid  to  put 
a  stop  to  his  coming. 

M.  de  Regnier  knew  this  well  enough.  However, 
after  some  difficulties  he  yielded  to  the  entreaties 
of  his  friend  and  went  to  see  the  Permons  about 
the  matter.  As  he  had  expected,  they  both  refused 
at  once.  "  But  what  have  you  against  him  ? " 
asked  M.  de  Regnier.  "  He  is  well  born  :  I  tell 
you  he  is  one  of  the  Geouffi'es  de  Chabrignac  of 
Limousin.  .Several  of  them  have  emigrated.  He  has 
a  tolerable  fortune  and  a  nice  place  near  Brives-la- 
Gaillarde.  He  is  well  thought  of  in  the  army,  and  very 
high  up  in  it  for  his  age  ;  he  is  certain  of  promotion. 
He  is  clever  and  handsome  too,  which  is  no  draw- 
back to  a  marriage.  Come,  Madame  Permon,  let  me 
persuade  you." 

But  it  was  no  use,  they  still  refused,  and  no  repre- 
sentations either  from  M.  de  Geouffre  or  any  one 
else  for  some  time  had  any  effect. 

Cccile,  however,  had  fallen  in  love  with  him,  and 
fretted  in  secret  at  her  parents'  decision.  She  was  a 
gentle,  timid  girl,  very  much  afraid  of  her  mother ; 
and  Madame  Permon,  though  she  had  a  great  affec- 
tion for  all  her  children,  committed  the  fatal  error  of 
not  treating  them  alike. 


40  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1791 

The  great  difference  in  their  ages  probably  ex- 
aggerated this  tendency,  besides  which  Cecile  had 
been  brought  up  away  from  her,  but  Laura  was  never 
out  of  her  sight.  At  any  rate,  while  she  treated  the 
latter  with  great  indulgence,  she  was  strict — almost 
severe — with  the  former,  so  that  Laura,  a  clever, 
merry,  high-spirited  child,  was  devoted  to  and  per- 
fectly at  ease  with  her  mother,  while  Cecile  was  shy, 
reserved,  and  in  considerable  awe  of  her.  So  Cecile 
did  not  venture  to  oppose  her  parents'  decision,  or 
even  to  let  them  know  that  she  was  unhappy,  only 
as  time  went  on  every  one  remarked  on  her  melan- 
choly and  altered  looks.  Her  father's  health  was  so 
bad  at  that  time  that  she  saw  scarcely  anything  of 
him.  Albert  was  away  and  Madame  Permon  did 
not  notice  that  anything  was  amiss. 

M.  de  Geouffre,  however,  persevered  all  the  more, 
and  about  six  months  after  his  first  offer  he  got  a 
friend  of  his  to  go  to  Madame  de  Saint-Ange,  who 
readily  promised  to  help  him. 

She  went  to  see  the  Permons,  and  observed  how  ill 
and  languid  Cecile  looked. 

"  Panoria,"  she  said  one  morning  to  Madame 
Permon,    "  when  are   you  going  to    marry  Cecile  ?  " 

"  What  a  question  !  "  replied  her  cousin.  "  You 
know  very  well  that  I  have  refused." 

"  Have  you  looked  at  your  daughter?  Don't  you 
see  how  she  is  changed  ?  Do  you  know  that  you 
are  answerable  for  what  she  suffers? " 

"  Kalli,"  said  Madame  Permon,  much  disturbed, 
"  I  leave  you  to  manage  your  own  family,  and  I  wish 
you  would  not  concern  yourself  with  mine." 

"  Indeed  !     Well,  if  you  take  it  in  that  way,  I  am 


I79I]  AT  XAPOLFOys   COURT  41 

accustomed  to  be  frank,  and  I  tell  )'ou  that  you  are 
not  a  good  mother." 

"  KalH  !  " 

"  No,  you  are  not  a  good  mother.  Send  for  \'our 
daughter  ;  ask  Loulou  what  sort  of  nights  her  sister 
passes,  and  then  sa\'  what  you  like." 

Madame  Permon,  who  had  no  idea  of  the  state  of 
things  and  no  wish  to  make  Cecile  unhappy,  called 
Laura,  and  from  the  questions  she  asked  discovered 
that  Cecile  spent  the  nights  in  crying  and  lamenting, 
but  had  forbidden  her  little  sister  to  say  anything 
about  it.  Filled  with  remorse,  Madame  Permon  then 
sent  for  Cecile,  and  assured  her  with  tears  that  since 
it  appeared  she  had  set  her  heart  upon  this  marriage 
it  should  take  place ;  and  at  the  end  of  another 
month  the  wedding  was  celebrated,  and  Cecile,  now 
Madame  de  Geouffre,  took  up  her  abode  in  the  Hotel 
Spinola,  the  headquarters  of  the  district  her  husband 
commanded. 

The  death  of  the  Queen,  and  still  more  that  of 
Madame  Elizabeth,  caused  a  shock  to  M.  Permon 
from  which  he  never  recovered.  Gradually  his  health 
failed  so  completely  that  he  seldom  came  down  even 
to  dinner,  but  remained  almost  always  in  his  bedroom 
or  study. 

And  though  the  fall  and  execution  of  Robespierre 
caused  a  parox}-sm  of  jo\-  and  relief  throughout  the 
country,  and  the  worst  of  the  Terror  was  over,  all 
danger  was  by  no  means  at  an  end.  The  executions 
at  Paris,  though  less  numerous,  had  not  ceased,  and 
at  first  people  dared  not  express  the  delight  they 
felt  at  the  death  of  the  tyrant.  Until  PVance  was 
delivered  from  the  tyranny  of  the  Convention  there 
could  be  no  real  security  for  any  one. 


CHAPTER    III 

1793-1795 

IN  this  atmosphere  of  suspicion,  anxiety,  and 
danger  people  all  over  France  went  on  living  for 
a  considerable  time  longer. 

M.  Permon  was  kept  informed  of  what  was  going 
on  at  Paris  by  his  lawyer,  M.  Brunetiere,  a  man  of 
great  experience  and  capacity  who  belonged  to  the 
Chatelet,  knew  everybody  and  had  dealings  with  all 
the  powers  and  authorities.  All  letters,  however,  had 
to  be  exchanged  with  the  greatest  precaution. 
Though  the  Terror  was  over,  it  might  at  any  moment 
break  out  again. 

Letters  were  sent  concealed  in  pies,  in  cakes,  in 
poultry,  in  the  linings  of  coats  and  dresses,  in  hats 
and  bonnets.  With  the  box  or  parcel  was  generally 
sent  a  letter,  saying,  "In  compliance  with  your  order 
I  send  you  "  such  and  such  a  thing.  Now,  as  he  had 
ordered  nothing,  the  receiver  of  such  a  notice  knew 
that  a  letter  of  importance  was  to  be  found  some- 
where in  the  article  sent.  Madame  Permon,  however, 
did  not  like  the  dresses,  bonnets,  &c.,  that  came  to 
her  from  Paris  being  pulled  to  pieces  to  look  for 
letters  in  them.     On  one  occasion  she  wore  a  head- 

42 


I793-I795]  -4    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  43 

dress  for  a  fortnight  before  she  told  her  husband 
that  it  came  from  Paris  and  allowed  the  letter  it 
contained  to  be  taken  out. 

It  is  true  that  just  then  nothing  of  great  im- 
portance was  going  on. 

At  length  the  time  arrived  when  they  were  to 
leave  Toulouse.  Calmer  days  seemed  to  be  ap- 
proaching. M.  Permon  received  pressing  letters 
from  different  friends  urging  him  to  return  to  Paris, 
telling  him  that  he  was  certain  of  a  distinguished 
post.  For  all  that,  he  sadly  replied  it  was  too  late, 
but  he  would,  if  it  were  possible,  go  back  there 
to  die. 

It  was  arranged  that  he  should  go  to  Bordeaux, 
where  he  had  some  affairs  to  settle,  while  his  wife 
should  proceed  with  Laura  to  Paris  to  see  whether  it 
would  be  safe  for  them  to  live  there  again.  Upon 
her  report  their  future  plans  were  to  depend. 

Albert  was  now  at  Paris  ;  he  had  just  left  Salicetti, 
and  was  thinking  of  going  on  some  business  to 
Holland.  He  took  an  apartment  for  his  mother  in 
the  Hotel  garni  de  la  Tranquillite,  Rue  des  Filles- 
Saint-Thomas.  They  were  pleasant  rooms  on  the 
second  floor  looking  into  the  garden,  and  there  she 
installed  herself  with  Laura,  a  maid  and  valet-de- 
chauibrc,  and  began  to  receive  the  visits  of  such  of 
her  friends  as  had  sur\ived  the  horrors  of  the 
Revolution. 

Amongst  them  was  the  old  Comte  de  Pcrigord, 
who  had  just  got  out  of  prison,  where  his  life  had 
been  saved  by  his  valet,  Beaulieu.  Without  him,  he 
would  have  been  even  more  lonely  and  desolate  than 
he  had  now  become.     His  wife  and  daughter  were 


44  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i793-i795 

dead,  his  sons  had  emigrated,  he  had  lost  almost  all 
his  fortune,  his  health  was  impaired. 

When  his  master  was  arrested,  Beaulieu  devoted 
himself  to  his  service.  He  contrived  to  bring  him 
everything  he  wanted,  and  watched  over  him  un- 
ceasingly. 

The  Comte  de  Pcrigord,  like  many  others,  was 
always  writing  to  the  members  of  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety  protesting  his  innocence  and  asking  for 
justice.  These  petitions  he  gave  to  Beaulieu  to  post 
or  deliver. 

Ikit  Beaulieu  had  been  told  by  a  friend  of  his  own, 
a  relation  of  the  man  in  whose  house  Robespierre 
lived,  that  this  importunity  had  been  the  destruction 
of  many  of  the  prisoners,  who  might  very  likely  have 
been  forgotten,  and  so  escaped,  had  not  their  first 
petition  recalled  them  to  the  recollection  of  the 
tyrants,  and  the  following  ones  irritated  them,  so  that 
they  often  signed  their  death-warrants  to  get  rid  of 
them. 

Beaulieu  did  not  tell  his  master  this,  but  he  put 
all  the  petitions  into  the  fire  as  fast  as  he  received 
them,  and  the  old  Count  could  not  imagine  why  he 
never  obtained  any  answer,  l^eaulieu  did  everything 
he  could  to  ensure  his  being  forgotten.  He  bribed 
the  prison  officials,  and  whenever  the  Comte  de 
Perigord  began  to  be  well  known  in  one  prison  he 
managed  to  get  him  transferred  to  another.  When 
the  Terror  was  at  an  end  and  the  prisons  were 
opened  he  remained  with  his  master,  still  taking  care 
of  him  ;  and  another  of  his  servants,  directly  he  knew 
that  the  Count  was  free,  came  back  and  lived  with  him 
in  the  house  of  his  friend,  the  Comte  de  Monchcnu, 


1 793-1795]  '4T  X A PO LEON'S  COURT  45 

who  was  still  well  off,  had  i^ivcn  him  shelter  and 
shown  him  unceasin<^  kindness  and  friendship. 

Napoleon,  directly  he  heard  of  the  arrival  of 
Madame  I'ermon,  hastened  to  sec  her,  and  was 
receiv'ed  by  her  with  great  pleasure.  He  was  then,  as 
Madame  de  Saint-Ange  had  said,  decidedly  plain  ;  thin, 
sallow,  .sickly-looking,  and  slovenly  in  his  dress,  his 
boots  were  badly  made  and  he  wore  no  gloves  because 
he  said  it  was  a  useless  expense.  He  had  been  arrested 
on  an  accusation  of  being  a  spy  and  for  other  matters 
by  order  of  Salicetti,  about  whose  conduct  in  the 
affair  Napoleon  felt  all  the  more  bitterly  as  they 
were  compatriots  and  friend.s.  Napoleon  had  been  in 
considerable  danger,  and  when  Madame  Permon 
alluded  to  the  matter  he  remarked  with  a  momentary 
smile,  "  He  wished  to  ruin  me,  but  my  star  would  not 
let  him.  However,  I  ought  not  to  boast  of  my  star, 
for  after  all  what  is  to  be  my  fate  ? " 

Napoleon  resumed  his  former  intimac}',  and  was 
constantly  at  Madame  Permon's  house.  For  advice 
and  assistance  she  depended  chiefly  upon  ]\I.  Brune- 
tiere,  who  already  repented  of  having  counselled 
her  to  return  to  Paris,  where  everything  was  still  so 
unsettled  and  threatening. 

The  Royalists  were  beginning  to  raise  their  heads 
again  ;  their  young  men  went  about  with  hair  powdered 
and  plaited,  sometimes  with  a  comb  in  it,  dressed  in 
grey  coats  with  black  collars  and  green  cravats, 
armed  with  thick  sticks,  for  they  were  continually 
'  getting  into  fights,  which  they  very  often  pro- 
voked. 

There  was  great  distress  owing  to  the  scarcit}- 
and  dearness  of  provisions.     Cccile  managed  to  send 


46  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1793-1795 

flour  to  her  mother  in  secret  from  the  south,  but  it 
was  unsafe  to  do  so,  as  it  was  forbidden,  and  a  heavy 
penalty  attached  to  it.  The  people  were  becoming 
more  and  more  irritated  and  menacing,  the  Conven- 
tion was  constantly  being  invaded  by  the  sections, 
and  gangs  of  drunken  women  began  to  go  about 
again  crying  out  for  bread  and  shouting,  "  Down  with 
the  Republic  ! " 

"  Ma/oi  /"  exclaimed  Napoleon  one  day,  when  he 
came  to  dine  with  Madame  Permon  ;  "  I  don't  know 
who  they  are  so  furious  with,  but  they  are  like  demons. 
I  have  just  met  a  section  of  "Cixo.  faubourg  St.  Antoine, 
which  was  the  second  volume  to  the  troop  that  I 
wish  they  had  commissioned  me  to  receive  at  the 
Tuileries  on  the  loth  of  August." 

They  dined  hastily,  and  then  went  out  towards 
the  Tuileries,  to  get  news  of  what  was  going  on, 
Napoleon  giving  his  arm  to  Madame  Permon,  Albert 
taking  Laura. 

Before  they  had  gone  far  they  heard  horrible  cries 
and  shouts,  women  and  children  yelling  against  the 
Convention,  recalling  the  days  of  the  Terror  ;  therefore 
Napoleon  said  to  Madame  Permon,  "  You  had  better 
go  back  ;  this  place  is  not  fit  for  women.  I  will  take 
you  home,  and  then  go  and  find  out  what  is  the 
matter  and  bring  you  word." 

They  returned  accordingly,  and  Napoleon  went 
out  with  Albert,  but  neither  of  them  could  get  back 
that  night.  They  went  to  the  Convention,  where 
fortunately  a  man  of  sense  and  moderation  was  pre- 
siding ;  the  people  were  yelling  like  maniacs  for  the 
Constitution  of  '93. 

Salicetti  was    one  of    those    often   to  be  seen    at 


I793-I705]  '^T  S'APOLF.OXS  COURT  47 

Madame  Pcrmon's  evenings,  but  he  was  glooin)' 
and  absent,  and  whenever  an)'  [xjlitical  discussion 
went  on,  especiall}'  if  he  and  Napoleon  took  part 
in  it,  there  was  alwa)'s  a  tone  of  bitterness  and  per- 
sonaHty  incompatible  with  the  old  ideas  of  well-bred, 
pleasant  society. 

Madame  Permon,  who  saw  all  this  with  impatient 
disgust,  tried  in  vain  to  establish  in  her  present  sa/ou 
the  charm  and  ease  of  the  Hotel  Conti.  She  forbade 
any  politics  to  be  discussed  by  the  miscellaneous 
groups  who  drank  tea  and  ate  ices  in  her  rooms,  and 
Napoleon,  who  was  entirely  of  her  opinion,  tried  to 
help  her  and  to  lead  the  conversation  to  other  topics. 
Hut  it  was  impossible,  for,  with  the  best  intentions, 
what  else  was  there  to  talk  about  ? 

Literature  seemed  to  be  dead — there  were  no  new 
books  except  a  few  translations  of  English  novels  ; 
the  theatres  produced  nothing  worth  speaking  of, 
although  now  there  were  plays  going  on  every  night, 
concerts  at  the  Conservatoire,  and  even  balls.  Every- 
one's mind  was  preoccupied  and  filled  with  the  same 
subjects,  to  which,  do  what  they  might,  the  conversa- 
tion always  returned.  Napoleon  came  every  day  to 
the  Permons,  and  did  not  seem  much  more  contented 
than  in  the  old  days  of  the  militar)'  school.  It  was 
true  that  he  was  already  a  general,  though  not  yet 
six-and-twenty  ;  but  the  proceedings  of  Salicetti  had 
for  the  time  ruined  his  career :  he  had  ver\'  little 
money,  and  his  family  could  not  send  him  any,  as 
the)'  had  become  involved  in  the  political  troubles  of 
the  day,  had  been  forced  to  leave  Corsica,  and  were 
now  living  at  Marseilles. 

There  Joseph  had  just  married  Mademoiselle  Clary, 


48.  .-1    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i7()3-i795 

the  daughter  of  a  rich  merchant,  and  sent  what  help 
he  could  from  time  to  time  to  Napoleon. 

Often  in  the  evenings,  as  the  young  general  walked 
on  the  boulevards  with  his  friend  Junot,  and  watched 
the je/inessc  dorcc  riding  and  driving  past  in  all  the 
luxury  it  was  no  longer  dangerous  to  display,  he 
would  inveigh  against  injustice  and  inequalities 
of  fortune  and  abuse  the  young  dandies  with  their 
ridiculous  dress  and  absurd,  lisping  speech,  for  it  was 
then  the  height  of  fashion  to  leave  out  the  letter  r, 
and  to  speak  of  a  miacle,  ^pafnni,  and  so  on. 

Junot,  whose  family  was  better  off,  shared  every- 
thing sent  him,  as  well  as  all  he  won  at  trente-et-nn, 
&c.,  with  Napoleon,  whom  he  adored. 

Napoleon,  in  addition  to  other  troubles,  had  at  this 
time  an  unfortunate  love-affair  going  on,  and  Junot 
was  deeply  in  love  with  Napoleon's  second  sister, 
Pauline,  who  was  remarkably  beautiful,  but  whom  he 
could  not  afford  to  marry.  To  his  entreaties  that 
Napoleon  would  write  for  him  to  Madame  Buona- 
parte about  Pauline,  he  only  re})lied — 

"  I  cannot  write  to  my  mother  to  ask  her  any  such 
thing.  You  say  you  will  have  twelve  hundred  livres 
de  rentes.  Very  well  ;  but  you  have  not  got  them 
now.  Your  father  is  in  good  health,  and  you  will  have 
to  wait  a  long  time.  In  fact,  you  have  nothing  but 
your  lieutenant's  epaulette.  As  to  Paulette,  she  has 
not  even  as  much  as  that.  Therefore  consider — you 
have  nothing,  she  has  nothing,  what  is  the  total  ? 
Nothing.  You  cannot  marry  at  present.  Wait, 
perhaps  we  shall  have  better  days,  my  friend.  Yes, 
we  shall  have  them,  if  1  have  to  go  to  another  part  of 
the  world  to  find  them." 


I793-I795]  -J'^  XAPOLEONS   COURT  49 

For  some  time  public  affairs  seemed  to  have 
calmed  down,  but  every  now  and  then  some  new  riot 
or  commotion  broke  out,  recalling  to  people's  minds 
the  fearful  days  of  the  Terror,  which  were  past  but 
might  return.  One  day  Laura  was  sent  out  by  her 
mother  to  buy  some  ribbons,  gauze,  and  artificial 
flowers,  under  the  care  of  her  maid,  Mariette.  They 
went  in  a  cab,  and  as  they  were  coming  back  along 
the  boulevard,  they  met  a  troop  of  drunken,  furious 
women,  yelling  and  shouting  against  the  ("onven- 
tion,  and  crying  out  for  the  Constitution  of  '93. 

Mariette  began  to  cry,  but  Laura,  who  had  plenty 
of  spirit,  said  nothing,  even  when  fift\' or  sixty  of  them 
surrounded  the  carriage,  and  one,  who  was  the  wife 
of  the  driver,  ordered  him  peremptorily  to  get  down 
and  open  the  door. 

"  But  I  have  a  fare  in  the  carriage.  And  there  you 
are  shouting  like  a  fury  as  usual !  " 

"  I  tell  you  that  I  am  tired,  and  these  patriotcs  too, 
and  we  are  going  to  this  cursed  Convention  to 
make  them  give  us  bread,  jour  tic  Dieu  ! '  or  the 
President  shall  know  the  weight  of  my  arm  as  well 
as  you  do.  Come  !  no  more  'ifs'  and  '  buts  ' !  Open 
your  wisky  at  once,  I  tell  you  ! " 

Laura  wanted  to  give  the  driver  twenty  francs  and 
walk  home,  but  he  would  not  listen  or  understand. 
He  tried  to  force  his  way  through  the  crowd,  where- 
upon his  wife  herself  opened  the  door  and  let  down 
the  steps.  Laura  jumped  out,  beckoning  to  Mariette 
to  follow,  but  she  was  afraid  to  move. 

"  Come !    room    for   the    good   people,"  cried    the 

■  This  expression  is  taken  literally  from  the  Memoirs  of  the 
Diichesse  cr.\I)ranti;s. 

5 


50  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i793-i795 

woman;  but  on  seeing  Laura  she  took  her  in  her 
arms.  "  Why,  what's  the  matter,  my  chicken  ?  "  she 
said  consolingly ;  and  turning  to  her  husband  she 
exclaimed,"  And  you, animal  !  couldn't  you  have  told 
me  it  was  a  child  like  this  you  had  in  your  carriage? 
Rabbit's  brain  1  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  put 
i/iat  out  to  walk,  stupid  ?  And  she  is  frightened, 
poor  little  cat !  Is  it  your  mamma  inside  there,  //wu 
choii  ?  " 

"  No,  citoyenne,  it  is  my  maid." 

"  Well,  what  is  she  crying  and  making  all  that 
noise  for?  One  would  think  she  had  lost  both  father 
and  mother." 

"  Look  here,  Marianne,"  cried  another  woman, 
opening  the  opposite  door,  "  she  is  begging  for  mercy. 
The  fool  thinks  we  are  going  to  kill  her !  Perhaps 
she  is  a  princess  in  disguise !  "  And  they  all  began 
to  laugh  at  Mariette,  who  cried  all  the  louder. 

"  Come  !  will  you  be  quiet,  you  idiot !  "  cried  another. 
"  Hold  your  tongue  and  come  out !  "  and  she  seized 
hold  of  her  arm.  Mariette  screamed  and  fell  on  her 
knees  in  the  carriage. 

"  Well !  what  is  it  ?  "  cried  the  jjroprietress  of  the 
cab.  "  Leave  the  girl  alone.  Do  you  think  I'm 
going  to  make  that  go  on  foot  ?  Why,  she  can  hardly 
hold  herself  up.  And  then  this  child  !  "  as  she  felt 
Laura  tremble.  She  was  a  tall,  handsome  woman, 
withfine  eyes,  teeth,  and  complexion,  and  the  strength 
of  a  giantess.  Her  language,  like  that  of  her  com- 
panions, was  interlarded  with  oaths  and  blasphemies, 
but  her  dark  eyes  rested  compassionately  upon  Laura. 

"  Come,  get  back  into  the  coucou,  mon  chou"  she 
said,  "  and  go  to  your  mamma  ;  but  tell  her  not  to  let 


1/93-1795]  ■i'f  \'. IPO  LEGS  S   COURT  51 

}'OLi  run  about  with  nobody  but  God  to  take  care  of 
you,  for  you  might  just  as  well  be  quite  alone  as  with 
a  canary  like  that,  or  that  rabbit  of  a  coachman  either  ! 
Where  did  you  take  them  from  ?  "  she  added,  turning 
to  her  husband. 

"  Rue  des  Filles-Thomas,  close  to  the  Theatre 
Feydeau." 

"  Well,  then  take  them  back  there.  I  am  going 
with  the  others,  and  you  can  come  after  me.  The 
more  the  better." 

And  lifting  Laura  in  her  arms,  she  embraced  her, 
thrust  her  into  the  carriage,  put  up  the  steps,  shut  the 
door,  and  with  two  or  three  oaths  called  out  to  her 
husband  in  a  voice  like  thunder,  "  Drive  on  !" 

Madame  Permon  was  waiting  at  the  entrance  of 
the  house  in  great  anxiety,  having  heard  that  there 
were  disturbances  in  the  streets. 

Laura  jumped  out  of  the  carriage,  threw  herself 
into  her  arms  and  burst  into  tears,  having  had,  as 
Napoleon  laughingly  observed,  too  much  pride  to 
cry  before  the  fish-wives. 

Her  mother  said  that  she  had  shown  the  spirit  of  a 
Spartan,  for  which  she  was  very  much  pleased  with 
her. 

The  state  of  affairs  continued  to  be  disturbed  and 
dangerous.  There  were  insurrections  every  day,  and 
the  strife  between  the  two  parties  in  the  Convention 
grew  more  and  more  bitter.  Among  the  members 
were  now  some  men  of  moderate  views  and  respect- 
able character,  but  most  of  them  were  weak  and 
vacillating.  Those  of  the  party  known  as  the 
"Montagne"  comprised  the  ferocious  and  violent 
ruffians   such  as  Collot-d'Herbois,  Billaud-Varennes 


52  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i 793-1795 

and  Barrere,  who  flattered  the  mob,  and  whose  aim 
was  to  bring  back  the  Terror.  To  this  party  SaHcetti 
also  belonged. 

People  of  all  shades  of  opinion  were  in  the  habit 
of  coming  to  the  sa/on  of  Madame  Permon  in  the 
evening,  and  among  them  Salicetti,  to  whom  Madame 
Permon  felt  herself  too  much  indebted  for  the  pro- 
tection he  had  given  them  to  do  anything  to  dis- 
courage his  presence  in  her  house.  But  as  events 
grew  more  and  more  startling,  she  felt  an  unconquer- 
able repugnance  to  receive  as  a  friend  a  man  who 
was  doing  his  utmost  to  bring  back  the  Terror,  and 
she  was  considering  whether  she  should  not  speak  to 
him  on  the  subject,  when  the  matter  was  decided  by 
the  following  circumstances. 

After  violent  scenes,  in  which  the  "  Montague " 
supported  all  the  demands  of  the  mob,  the  Conven- 
tion awoke  to  the  critical  state  of  affairs,  and  gave 
orders  to  General  Pichegru,  who  in  a  few  hours 
arrested  the  leading  members  of  the  Terrorist  faction. 
But  the  city  was  seething  with  rage  and  excitement, 
there  was  a  general. call  to  arms,  the  air  was  filled 
with  shouts,  cries,  and  the  ringing  of  the  tocsin,  an 
armed  mob  poured  out  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine, 
urged  on  by  the  conspirators  who  were  driven  to 
desperation,  and  had  promised  them  the  sack  of 
Paris.  There  was  a  universal  dread  of  a  worse  cala- 
mity even  than  that  of  loth  August,  '91.  Roused 
by  this  frightful  danger,  the  respectable  citizens — all, 
in  fact,  who  had  anything  to  lose — formed  themselves 
into  armed  and  organised  bands,  and  prepared  to 
defend  their  lives  and  property. 

Madame  Permon  and   Laura  remained,  of  course. 


1 793-1 795]  -'/"   yAPOLEOXS    COrRT  53 

shut  up  at  home  all  da}-,  having  done  their  best  to 
hide  their  most  valuable  things.  Towards  evening 
Albert,  whom  they  had  not  seen  all  day,  came  in  to 
get  some  food,  exhausted  with  hunger,  having  eaten 
nothing  since  earl)'  morning,  for  at  that  time  the 
cafi^s  and  restaurants,  now  so  universal,  were  few  and 
scattered.  Just  as  he  was  finishing  his  repast 
Napoleon  arrived  in  the  same  state.  He  sat  down 
to  the  table,  telling  them,  whilst  he  ate,  of  the 
frightful  commotion  going  on  in  the  streets.  He 
asked  if  they  had  seen  Salicetti  the  last  day  or  two, 
and   remarked  that  he  had   ruined  his  career. 

Albert  Pcrmon  tried  to  make  an  excuse  for  him, 
but   Napoleon  interrujjted. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  Permon,  hold  your  tongue  ! 
That  man  has  been  my  evil  genius.  Dumerbion 
liked  me,  and  would  have  given  me  active  service. 
No,  I  may  pardon,  but  I  cannot  forget  it  ;  that  is 
another  thing." 

About  midnight  he  and  Albert  went  out  together  ; 
the  streets  were  still  full  of  excited  crowds,  a  few 
shots  were  heard,  but  the  "  Montagne "  had  fallen, 
the  Convention  was  victorious,  and  for  the  time  the 
danger  was  over. 

The  next  day  Madame  Permon  had  some  people 
to  dinner.  It  was  a  sort  of  farewell  party,  as  she  and 
Laura  were  to  start  for  Bordeau.x  four  days  after- 
wards to  spend  some  months  with  M.  Permon,  and 
then  return  with  him  to  Paris.  About  six  o'clock 
Madame  Permon  was  in  her  drawing-room,  only  one 
person  having  arrived,  when  Mariette  came  and 
whispered  in  her  ear  that  there  was  some  one  in  her 
bedroom  who  wanted  to  speak  to  her  alone. 


54  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i 793-1 795 

When  she  went  in  she  saw  a  figure  standing  half- 
concealed  by  the  curtain  of  the  window.  He  stepped 
forward,  making  a  sign  to  her  to  keep  silence,  and  she 
recognised  Salicetti.  He  was  deadly  pale,  his  black 
eyes  burning,  his  lips  white. 

"  I  am  proscribed,"  he  said  in  a  low,  rapid  voice, 
"  and  that  means  condemned  to  death.  Gautier  met 
me  on  the  boulevard  and  warned  me.  Madame 
Permon,  I  have  not  deceived  myself  in  trusting  to 
your  generosity.  You  will  save  me,  will  }'Ou  not? 
I  need  scarcely  remind  you  that  I  saved  your  husband 
and  son." 

Laura  had  come  in  and  shut  the  door.  The  three 
stood  looking  at  one  another.  Through  the  closed 
door  were  heard  the  voices  of  the  guests  assembling 
in  the  drawing-room.  Madame  Permon  took  her 
unwelcome  guest  by  the  hand  and  led  him  into  the 
room  beyond,  which  was  Laura's,  where  they  could 
not  be  heard. 

"  I  will  not  waste  time  in  talking,"  she  said.  "  All 
that  I  have  is  at  your  disposal.  But  beyond  my  own 
life  I  value  my  son  and  daughter.  I  am  ready  to 
risk  my  life  for  you.  But  if  I  hide  you  here  only  for 
a  few  hours — this  house  will  not  conceal  you  longer — 
I  shall  not  be  able  to  save  you,  and  I  shall  not  only 
bring  my  own  head  to  the  scaffold,  but  my  son's.  I 
owe  you  gratitude  ;  say  yourself  if  it  ought  to  go  so 
far  as  that." 

"  I  would  not  run  you  into  danger  for  the  world," 
he  replied.  "  This  is  my  plan  and  my  only  hope. 
This  house,  being  an  //otc/  garni,  will  never  be 
suspected  ;  the  landlad)'  natural!)'  wants  to  make 
money.     I  will  give  her  plenty.     Let  me  be  hidden 


1793-1795]  -iT  XAPOI.EOys  COrk'T  55 

here  for  a  few  (la)'s,  then  you  are  i^oiii<^  to  Gascon}', 
take  me  with  \ou  and  you  will  save  m)-  life.  If  )'ou 
refuse  me  shelter  even  for  a  few  hours,  when  I  leave 
this  house  I  shall  be  arrested,  condemned,  and 
perish  on  the  scaffold  from  which  I  saved  \our 
husband  and  son." 

"  Salicetti,"  said  Madame  Permon, "  there  is  neither 
pity  nor  generosity  in  what  you  say.  You  know  m>- 
position  and  take  advantage  of  it.  Once  more,  what 
can  I  do  in  an  //oife/  garni? — a  house  filled  with 
people  from  all  the  provinces,  inhabited  by  )our 
enemies,  for  you  know  very  well  that  Buonaparte  is 
one  of  them.  Besides,  the  landlady  is  far  from 
sharing  )'Our  opinions,  and  is  it  likely  that  an)' 
promise  of  yours  would  induce  her  to  help  }'ou  at  the 
risk  of  her  life  ?  Ever\-thing  round  us  bristles  with 
difficulties." 

At  that  moment  some  one  opened  the  bedroom 
door.  Madame  Permon  rushed  forward  to  stand  at 
the  inner  door,  but  it  was  only  Albert  who  came  to 
see  why  dinner  was  not  served. 

"Everybody  has  come,"  he  said,  "  except  Buona- 
parte, who  has  sent  an  excuse." 

Madame  Permon  clasped  her  hands  tighth',  and 
for  a  moment  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven.  Albert 
looked  at  her  in  astonishment,  but  she  signed  to  him 
to  be  silent  and  desired  him  aloud  to  order  the 
dinner  to  be  taken  in  at  once.  Then,  taking  a  letter 
from  the  mantelpiece  she  entered  the  drawing-room 
with  it  in  her  hand,  saying  to  the  assembled  guests 
that  her  daughter  C'ccile  had  just  sent  her  a 
messenger  from  the  South  with  a  turke\'  and  truffles, 
which,  if  the)-  did  not  mind  waiting,  they  could  have 


56  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [i793-i795 

for  dinner.  This  she  said  because  the  man  who  was 
present  when  Mariette  called  her  was  a  chattering, 
gossiping  person,  who  would  be  a  danger. 

Everybody  preferred  not  to  wait  for  the  turke)', 
which  she  proposed  they  should  cat  the  next  day 
instead  ;  so,  asking  leave  to  finish  her  letter,  she 
returned  into  the  bedroom,  softly  bolted  the  door, 
and  told  Salicetti  that  fortunately  Buonaparte  was  not 
there. 

"  Now  what  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"If  you  don't  refuse  to  save  me,  the  thing  is 
certain.     Do  you  consent?" 

Madame  Permon  was  silent  for  a  minute,  and 
Laura  saw  by  her  changing  colour  the  violent 
agitation  she  felt.  Salicetti,  interpreting  her  silence 
as  a  refusal,  took  up  his  hat,  muttered  some  words, 
and  turned  to  go,  but  Madame  Permon  caught  him 
by  the  arm. 

"Stay!"  she  said;  "this  roof  must  shelter  you. 
My  son  must  pay  his  debt,  and  I  must  pay  my 
husband's." 

"  Well,  then,  it  is  all  settled  :  there  is  nothing  more 
to  say.  Go  to  dinner,  and  Mariette  will  look  after 
me." 

Madame  Permon  stopped  for  a  moment  in  her 
own  room  to  regain  her  composure.  Her  eyes  rested 
in  despair  upon  Laura,  who  was  clinging  to  her,  for 
she  well  knew  the  danger  she  was  incurring.  How- 
ever, she  controlled  herself,  and  no  one  who  saw  her 
bright  face  and  heard  her  merry  laugh  could  have 
guessed  the  deadly  fear  that  made  her  heart  sink. 
The  dinner  was  gay  and  animated.  M.  Bruneticre 
was  of  the  party,  and  the  conversation  turned  upon 


I793-I795]  '4''  yAPOf.EOXS  COURT  57 

Salicetti,  of  wliom  he  spoke  with  contempt  and 
reprobation. 

At  last  the  evening  came  to  an  end,  and  when 
everybody  was  gone  Madame  Permon  told  Albert 
what  had  happened.  He  was  horrified  at  the  danger 
for  his  mother  and  sister,  but  there  was  no  time  for 
fear  or  hesitation  ;  something  must  be  done.  The}- 
sent  for  Madame  Gretry,  their  landlady,  who  was  an 
excellent  woman.  At  the  first  mention  of  a  pro- 
scribed person    she   exclaimed — 

"  I  have  what  }-ou  require,  but  for  that  it  will 
be  necessary  that  Madame  Permon  should  change 
her  apartment.  It  is  a  secret  place  which  has  saved 
more  than  four  people  already  in  the  Terror,  and  it 
will  save  others  yet,  as  long  as  I  live  in  this  house." 

They  changed  their  apartment  accordingly  without 
delay,  giving  out  that  they  wanted  a  larger  one,  as  M. 
Permon  was  coming  to  Paris,  and  they  arranged  that 
they  should  pretend  to  get  a  second  letter  from  him, 
saying  that  after  all  he  was  not  coming,  and  summon- 
ing them  to  Bordeaux.  Meanwhile  Salicetti  was  put 
in  the  secret  chamber,  \\hich  was  lined  with  tapcstr\- 
and  carpets  to  deaden  any  sound. 

Next  morning  Napoleon  appeared  with  a  large 
bouquet  of  violets  for  Madame  Permon,  an  attention 
so  unwonted  on  his  part  that  they  all  laughed,  in 
which  he  joined,  saying,  "  It  seems  to  me  that  I 
don't  make  a  good  cavalicre  seit'cntc.'' 

He  then  began  to  speak  of  Salicetti,  observing  that 
he  wondered  how  he  and  his  friends  liked  being 
arrested  themselves,  and  that  they  were  reaping  the 
fruits  of  their  own  actions. 

"  What !    is    Salicetti   arrested  ? "    cried    Madame 


58  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1793-1795 

Permon,  with  an  air  of  surprise,  signing  to  Laura  to 
shut  the  door. 

"Why,  didn't  you  know  that  the  warrant  was  out 
against  him  yesterday?  I  thought  you  knew  it  so 
well  that  he  was  hidden  in  your  house." 

"  In  my  house  ! "  exclaimed  Madame  Permon. 
"In  my  house  !  Napoleon,  my  dear  boy,  you  must 
be  mad  !  In  my  house  !  Why,  1  haven't  got  a 
house.  My  dear  General,  I  must  really  beg  you  not 
to  make  such  a  joke  about  me  to  any  one  else. 
What  have  I  done  to  you  that  you  should  amuse 
yourself  by  endangering  my  life,  for  that  is  what 
it  comes  to  ?  " 

Napoleon  got  up  and  stood  in  silence,  looking 
at  her  with  folded  arms  for  some  moments.  Then  he 
said — 

"Madame  Permon,  Salicetti  is  hidden  here.  Don't 
interrupt  me  ;  I  don't  know  it  positively,  but  I 
say  that  he  is  hidden  here,  because  at  five  o'clock 
yesterday  lie  was  seen  on  the  boulevard  speaking  to 
Gauthier,  who  warned  him  not  to  go  to  the  Conven- 
tion, and  he  went  in  this  direction.  He  has  not  been 
to  the  Palais  Egalite,  and  he  has  no  friends  here 
intimate  enough  to  risk  their  own  safety  and  that  of 
their  family  by  receiving  him,  except  you." 

"  And  by  what  right  should  he  have  come  to  me  ?  " 
replied  Madame  Permon.  "  He  knows  our  opinions 
are  not  the  same.  I  was  just  leaving  Paris,  and  if  it 
had  not  been  for  m)'  husband's  letter  I  should  have 
set  off  to-morrow  morning  for  (-iascony." 

"By  what  right  should  he  come  to  you?  You 
may  well  say  so,  my  dear  Madame  J'ermon.  To  go 
to  an  unprotected  woman  whom  a  few  hours'  shelter 


1 793-1795]  -''^  SWrOLEOX'S  COUh'T  59 

given  to  a  proscribed  man  who  well  deserves  his 
proscription  would  compromise,  is  a  mean,  cowardly 
action  of  which  nobody  else  would  be  guilty.  You 
are  under  an  obligation  to  him  ;  it  is  like  a  bill 
he  holds,  and  which  he  comes  like  a  bailiff  and 
orders  you  to  pay.  Was  not  that  it,  Mademoiselle 
Loulou  ? "  he  said,  turning  abruptly  to  Laura,  who 
was  looking  at  some  flowers,  and  pretended  not  to 
hear. 

"  Laurette,"  said  her  mother,  "  General  Buonaparte 
is  speaking  to  you,  my  child." 

Laura  turned  to  him  with  a  slight  confusion,  but 
Napoleon,  taking  the  child's  hand,  said  to  her 
mother,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  was  wrong,  and 
your  daughter  has  given   me  a  lesson." 

For  more  than  two  hours  he  remained  there, 
Madame  Permon  denying  that  Salicetti  was  in  the 
house ;  Napoleon,  who  did  not  believe  it,  saying, 
"  Madame  Permon,  }-ou  are  a  remarkably  good 
woman  and  he  is  a  scoundrel.  He  knew  you  could 
not  shut  your  doors  against  him,  so  he  endangered 
you  and  this  child." 

]\Iadame  Permon  tried  to  throw  him  on  a  false 
scent  by  declaring  that  Salicetti  had  been  there  and 
gone  away.  At  last  Napoleon  departed,  Salicetti 
having  heard  through  the  partition  that  concealed 
him  the  whole  of  the  conversation. 

For  several  da)'s  he  stayed  there,  to  the  great 
inconvenience  of  the  Permons.  Laura  was  dread- 
fully afraid  of  him  :  she  said  in  after-years  that 
he  was  to  her  like  a  vampire.  His  principles  and 
ideas  were  odious  to  them  all,  and  he  was  constantly 
saying  something  that  horrified  and  disgusted  them. 


6o  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i793-i795 

The  execution  of  those  who  were  condemned  and 
had  been  arrested  took  place.  Albert,  who  knew  one 
of  them  and  went  to  the  scaffold  out  of  kindness  to 
be  of  some  consolation  to  him,  returned  much  over- 
come, his  overcoat  stained  with  blood,  so  close  had  he 
stood  to  him.  The  account  he  gave  of  what  had 
passed  was  too  much  for  Laura,  who  clung  to  her 
mother  trembling  and  sobbing. 

Then  Salicetti  had  an  attack  of  fever  and  delirium. 
Without  any  religion  and  stained  with  crime,  his 
ravings,  curses,  and  blasphemies  were  horrible  to 
listen  to.  At  last  he  was  well  enough  to  travel,  and 
it  was  arranged  that  they  were  to  set  off  on  their 
journey  to  Bordeaux  one  night,  taking  Salicetti 
disguised  as  a  valet,  whose  name,  Gabriel  Tachard, 
he  assumed.  He  was  to  try  to  embark  at  one  of  the 
southern  ports,  those  of  the  north  being  too  strictly 
watched. 

Napoleon  had  never  been  deceived  by  Madame 
Permon's  assurances  about  Salicetti,  and  when  he 
asked  her  at  what  time  she  was  going  to  start,  and 
she  replied  at  midnight,  as  it  was  better  in  hot 
weather  to  travel  at  night  and  rest  by  day,  he 
remarked  sarcastically  that  it  was  an  excellent  idea, 
and  asked  if  it  were  her  own. 

"  Whose  else  should  it  be  ?     Loulou's  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  Mademoiselle  Loulou  has  excellent 
ideas  sometimes ;  especially  when  she  likes  me  a 
little." 

"But  I  like  you  very  much  always!"  cried  Laura. 

There  had  been  much  trouble  and  difficulty  in 
hiring  a  valet,  very  dark  and  about  thirt)'  years  old 
whose  description  in  the  passport  would  suit  Salicetti 


I793-I795]  AT  yAPOLEOX'S  COURT  6i 

and  then  getting  the  man  another  place.  However, 
it  was  clone,  and  all  other  arrangements  completed. 
Madame  Grctry  had  been  lavishl}'  rev/arded,  but 
was  thankful  to  see  them  going,  as  she  had  n(jt  a 
moment's  peace  or  safety  while  Salicetti  was  there. 
The  day  before  their  departure  Napoleon  proposed  to 
go  with  them,  saying — 

"  I  will  go  and  see  my  mother  while  you  are  at 
Bordeaux  and  Toulouse,  and  then  return  with  you 
all  to  Paris.  I  have  nothing  to  do,  thanks  to  that 
scoundrel  who  has  ruined  me." 

They  spent  the  next  day  in  packing,  much  dis- 
turbed by  the  continued  visits  of  friends  who  came 
to  say  goodbye.  At  half-past  six  the}-  sat  down  to 
dinner  with  several  people,  among  whom  were  M. 
Bruneticre  and  Napoleon.  At  ten  Madame  Permon 
dismissed  everybody,  saying  that  she  had  several 
things  to  finish  and  promising  to  be  back  in  Sep- 
tember or  October.  When  Napoleon  took  leave  of 
her  he  held  her  hand  and  said  in  a  low  voice — 

"  When  you  come  back  here  remember  this  day 
and  say  to  yourself  that  to-day  I  have  given  you 
more  than  I  thought  I  possessed.  Perhaps  we  may 
never  meet  again  ;  my  destiny  will  surely  call  me 
far  away  from  Paris  before  long,  but  wherever  I  go 
you  will  have  a  true  friend." 

They  set  off,  with  Salicetti  on  the  box  of  their 
travelling-carriage,  and  were  soon  safely  out  of  Paris. 
The  first  time  they  changed  horses  the  postilion, 
who  was  going  back  to  Paris,  brought  a  letter  to 
Madame  Permon. 

"It  cannot  be  for  me,"  she  said  ;  "it  must  be  a 
mistake." 


62  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1793-1795 

"  No,  no,  it  is  no  mistake — at  least  if  you  are  the 

citoyenjie  Permon." 

On   hearing   this   she  remembered    that   Napoleon 

had  told  her  he  would  send  her  a  letter.     She  took 

it,  therefore,  offering  him  five  francs,  which  he  refused, 

saying  that  he  had  been  paid  by  the  young  man. 
"Really,"  said  Madame  Permon,  "one  would  think 

I  was  a  young  girl  being  carried  away  from  her  lov^er 

by  her  parents.     Did  any  one  ever  hear  of  such  a 

thing?" 

She  could  not  see  to  read  the  letter,  and  it  was  not 

until  the  day  had  dawned  that  she  was  able  to  do  so. 

It  was  as  follows — 

"  I  have  never  liked  to  be  taken  for  a  dupe,  as  I 

should  be  in  your  eyes,  if  1  did  not  tell  you  that   I 
have  known  for  more  than  three  weeks  that  Salicetti 

was  concealed  in  your  house.  Remembej-  my  words  ; 
on  the  I  prairial,  Madame  Permon,  I  was  morally 
certain  of  it.  Now  I  know  it  positively.  Salicetti, 
you  see  I  could  have  repaid  you  the  injury  you  did 
me,  and  by  doing  so  I  should  have  revenged  myself, 
while  you  did  me  harm  without  any  provocation. 
Which  is  the  finest  part  to  have  played,  yours  or 
mine  ?  Yes,  I  could  have  taken  my  revenge,  and  I 
have  not  done  so.  Perhaps  you  will  say  that  your 
benefactress  has  been  your  salvation.  It  is  true  that 
she  was  a  powerful  consideration,  but  alone,  disarmed, 
and  proscribed,  your  head  would  have  been  sacred  to 
me.  Go  in  peace,  and  find  a  refuge  where  you  can 
learn  better  and  more  patriotic  feelings.  My  lips  are 
closed  for  ever  upon  your  name.  Repent  and  appre- 
ciate my  mtjtives.  I  deserve  it,  for  they  are  noble 
and    generous.      Madame    Permon,    my   best  wishes 


1793-1795]  --^'f  NAPOLEO\''S   COURT  63 

follow  you  and  your  child.  You  arc  feeble  and 
defenceless.  May  Providence  and  the  prayers  of  a 
friend  be  with  you.  Above  all,  be  prudent  and  never 
stop  in  large  towns.     Adieu  ;  recevez  Dies  amities." 

Madame  Permon  passed  the  letter  to  Laura,  telling 
her  in  Greek  to  read  it. 

When  they  stopped  to  breakfast  she  showed  it  to 
Salicetti,  who  exclaimed,  "  I  am  lost  !  Ah  !  they  are 
mad  who  believe  in  the  prudence  of  women  !  " 

"  You  are  more  imprudent  than  an\'  of  us,  mou 
cher,"  remarked  Madame  Permon  ;  "  at  the  same 
time  you  pay  my  daughter  and  me  a  great  compli- 
ment, for  you  must  have  great  confidence  in  our 
generosity  when  in  return  for  all  we  have  risked  \ou 
speak  in  that  injurious  manner." 

Seeing  his  error,  he  hastened  to  apologise,  saying 
that  he  was  alluding  to  Mariette,  but  Madame 
Permon  only  shook  her  head,  saying — 

"  You  had  much  better  appreciate  the  noble  con- 
duct of  Buonaparte,  which  is  admirable." 

"Admirable  !"  was  the  disdainful  answer.  "What 
has  he  done?    \\  ould  }'OU  have  had  him  betray  me?" 

"  I  do  not  know  what  I  would  have  of  him," 
returned  she,  with  a  contemptuous  smile,  "  but  I 
know  that  what  I  wish  about  you  is  that  you  were 
grateful." 

The  secret  had  been  betrayed  by  Mariette  to  the 
servant  of  Napoleon,  who  was  in  love  with  her,  in 
spite  of  her  affection  for  her  mistress  and  Laura,  who 
by  her  culpable  folly  had  been  placed  in  the  most 
serious  danger.  Madame  Permon  would  certainly 
have  lost  her  life  if  they  had  been  discovered,  and 
nobody  in  the  house  would  have  escaped  altogether. 


64  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY'  [1793-1795 

They  travelled  safely  to  Bordeaux,  and  on  stopping 
at  their  usual  hotel  found  that  M.  Permon  was  in  the 
country.  A  friend  of  his,  M.  Emilhaud,  told  them 
that  they  had  tried  in  vain  to  find  a  vessel  going  to 
Italy  ;  there  would  be  none  for  a  fortnight,  neither 
was  there  any  starting,  except  for  England,  St. 
Domingo,  or  America.  Salicetti  would  not  go  to 
any  of  those  places  and  would  run  great  risks  by 
staying  in   Bordeaux. 

But  the  valet  of  M.  Permon  arrived  with  a  message 
from  him  that  he  had  succeeded  in  arranging  with  a 
man  to  let  them  have  a  sort  of  yacht  to  go  up  the 
Garonne  to  Toulouse  and  on  by  the  canal  to  Carcas- 
sonne. The  carriage  could  be  put  on  board  the 
yacht  and  they  could  land  and  drive  on  to  Narbonne 
or  Cette,  where  there  were  certain  to  be  boats  sailing 
for  Venice  and  Genoa.  This  would  be  much  safer 
than  the  road  from  Bordeaux  to  Montpellier.  The 
valet,  Landois,  told  Salicetti  that  he  was  being  looked 
for  and  must  embark  at  once.  They  went  on  board 
at  night  and  Landois  with  them.  The  carriage  was 
put  on  deck  and  covered  up,  so  that  no  one  could  tell 
what  it  was  from  the  shore,  and  they  started.  It  was 
a  lovely  night.  Laura  and  her  mother  sat  on  deck 
talking  in  low  tones  as  the  boat  glided  through  the 
water,  and  gazing  at  the  quiet  country  through  which 
they  were  passing,  illuminated  by  the  bright  southern 
moonlight.  Tall  trees  throwing  their  dark  shadows 
on  the  dewy  grass,  silent  fields  and  woods,  here  and 
there  an  old  gabled  house  or  chateau  ruined  by  recent 
violence,  a  sleeping  village,  a  church  bearing  marks 
of  desecration,  its  windows  and  doors  shattered,  grass 
and  weeds   growing   in   the  ancient   porch,  while  its 


•793-1795]  l^'   \'.il'Of.i:0\"S   COCRT  65 

priest  was  cither  murdered  or  far  away  in  prison  or 
exile  and  his  flock  left  to  live  and  die  like  heathens 
and  savages. 

These  reflections  led  them  to  speak  of  Laura's  first 
Communion,  for  which  she  had  passed  the  usual  age, 
but  which  the  danger — in  fact,  the  impossibility — of 
attending  to  religious  duties  had  hitherto  prevented. 

She  was  most  anxious  that  it  should  be  no  longer 
delayed,  and  her  mother  promised  directlv  they 
returned  to  Paris  to  arrange  about  it. 

Just  then  Salicetti  came  on  deck,  and  hearing 
what  they  were  saying,  began  to  make  blasphemous 
remarks.  The  customs  and  manners  in  which  Laura 
had  been  educated  not  permitting  a  young  girl  to 
give  an  older  person  the  sort  of  answer  he  would 
certainly  receive  in  our  own  day  under  such  provoca- 
tion, she  got  up  without  speaking,  turned  away  and 
went  down  to  the  little  cabin  she  shared  with  her 
mother,  where  she  sat  by  the  open  window  looking  out. 

Presentlx'  she  heard  Salicetti,  who  had  taken  her 
place  b)'  her  mother  under  the  awning  on  deck, 
carrying  on  a  conversation  which  she  could  not  help 
hearing,  but  which  filled  her  with  horror. 

As  at  first  they  spoke  in  undertones,  she  did  not 
distinguish  what  they  were  saying,  but  as  the\-  went 
on  and  conversed  in  a  more  audible  manner,  it  became 
evident  that  she  was  the  subject  of  discussion  and 
that  it  was  a  project  of  marriage  for  her  that  Salicetti 
was  pressing  upon  her  mother,  in  reply  to  whose 
objections  that  she  could  not  endure  him  and  was 
too  young,  he  said  that  she  had  the  spirit  of  a  heroine, 
with  talents  and  intelligence  far  beyond  her  age,  that 
he  admired  her  all  the  more  for  hating  the  man  whose 

6 


66  A   LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [i 793-1 795 

presence  was  a  danger  to  her  mother,  and  that  he 
would  give  Madame  Permon  an  estate  in  Normandy 
and  pay  all  the  expenses  of  her  daughter's  education 
in  Paris  if  she  would  consent  to  bring  her  to  Italy  in 
two  years,  supposing  he  were  not  by  that  time  free  to 
return  to  France,  concluding  with  the  representation 
that  it  would  be  foolish  to  refuse  such  an  offer,  as  M. 
Permon  was  ruined  and  could  give  Laura  no  dot, 
whereas  she  could  secure  to  her  all  these  advantages 
and  a  good-looking  husband  of  two-and-twenty. 

"  It  cannot  be  himself,  then,"  thought  Laura  with  a 
sigh  of  relief,  and  just  then  Madame  Permon  brought 
the  conversation  to  an  end  by  saying  that  she  did  not 
wish  to  be  separated  from  her  child  and  declined  to 
sell  her,  besides  which  the  matter  was  for  M.  Permon 
to  settle  and  she  was  perfectly  willing  to  abide  by 
his  decision.  She  then  rose,  wished  Salicetti  good 
night,  and  came  down  to  the  cabin,  where  Laura  told 
her  that  she  had  overheard  the  conversation  and 
asked  who  was  the  young  man  in  question. 

"  I  did  not  quite  understand,"  replied  her  mother  ; 
"  one  of  his  nephews  or  cousins,  he  says,  but  I  believe 
he  means  himself" 

"  You  must  be  joking  !  "  exclaimed  Laura  ;  "  why, 
he  is  old  enough  to  be  my  father  ! " 

"  I  am  not  joking  at  all,"  answered  Madame 
Permon,  "  but  whether  it  is  he  or  another,  I  am  not 
going  to  allow  my  Loulou  to  be  taken  from  me  in 
any  such  way.     Come  and  kiss  me,  my  child." 

Laura  clung  to  her  with  the  passionate  affection 
she  had  always  felt  for  her  mother,  and  the  affair  was 
at  an  end. 

The  party  arrived  safely  at  Carcassonne  and  drove 


'793-1795]  -i'l'  \'AI'OLEOX  S   COrRT  (q 

to  Narbonne,  but  no  boat  Un-  Italy  could  be  found 
there.  They  accordingh-  went  on  to  Cette,  or  rather 
to  Meze,  which  was  a  kind  of  suburb  of  that  i>lace, 
and  took  up  their  abode  in  a  lonely  inn  surrounded 
by  a  salt-water  marsh.  The  landlord  at  once  went 
down  to  the  port  and  found  that  a  boat  would  sail  at 
nine  that  night  for  Genoa. 

Salicetti  even  then  wanted  to  wait  two  days  longer 
for  the  Trieste  boat,  observing  that  the  solitude  of 
the  inn  made  it  safe  enough  ;  but  Madame  Permon's 
patience  was  exhausted,  and  she  replied  that  it  did 
not  suit  her  to  stay  any  longer  in  that  inn,  that  the 
wind  might  not  be  favourable  in  two  days,  and  that 
he  must  go  that  evening. 

The  inn  was  not  luxurious,  but  they  sat  down  to 
an  excellent  dinner  of  fish  with  the  captain  of  the 
ship  that  was  to  take  Salicetti.  He  showed  no 
surprise  on  seeing  the  servant  dine  with  them  or 
at  anything  that  passed.  Such  incidents  were  easily 
accounted  for  at  that  time. 

Directly  after  dinner  the  captain  announced  that 
the  wind  was  rising  and  he  should  sail  in  an  hour. 
Laudois  and  some  of  the  people  of  the  inn  carried 
the  luggage  on  board.  Salicetti  thanked  Madame 
Permon,  sent  a  message  of  thanks  to  Napoleon,  asked 
permission  to  embrace  Laura,  and  followed  the  captain 
into  the  boat  that  pushed  off  towards  the  ship. 

Full  of  delight  and  relief  to  have  got  rid  of  him 
and  to  feel  themselves  once  more  in  safet}',  Madame 
Permon  and  Laura  slept  at  the  inn,  and  the  ne.xt 
morning  went  on  to  Montpellier,  enjoying  the  delicious 
climate  and  the  beaut)'  of  the  countr)'  through  which 
they  travelled. 


68  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1793-1795 

At  Montpellier  they  found  a  letter  from  M.  Permon 
saying  that  he  was  still  detained  at  Bordeaux  but  if 
Laura  wanted  to  go.  to  the  fair  of  Beaucaire  they 
could  do  so. 

The  two  little  towns  of  Beaucaire  and  Tarascon 
stand  opposite  each  other,  their  houses  washed  by 
the  Rhone,  which  flows  between  them. 

The  fair  of  Beaucaire,  like  those  of  Leipsic  and 
Frankfort,  had  long  enjoyed  a  European  reputation. 
To  it  came  traders  from  London,  Paris,  India,  Russia, 
in  fact  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  One  of  the 
attractions  was  a  strange  kind  of  mediaeval  procession 
called  the  Tarasqiie,  which,  however,  did  not  take 
place  that  year,  much  to  Laura's  disappointment. 
The  disturbed  state  of  the  country  made  the  mer- 
chants and  everybody  else  uneasy  and  spoilt  the  fair. 

They  only  stopped  in  the  quaint  old  town  long 
enough  to  see  it,  and  then  went  on  to  Bordeaux, 
where  at  length  they  found  M.  Permon,  delighted  to 
meet  them  again  but  looking  extremely  ill.  He 
listened  with  great  interest  to  their  account  of 
what  had  happened,  and  when  his  wife  told  him  of 
Napoleon's  generosity  and  Salicetti's  slighting  obser- 
vation, he  said,  "  I  have  nearly  always  remarked  that 
those  who  find  the  noble  or  generous  conduct  of 
others  a  mere  matter  of  course  are  incapable  of  it 
themselves.  And  a  person  who  has  nothing  to 
revenge  cannot  put  himself  in  the  place  of  one  who 
holds  in  his  hands  the  fate  of  the  man  who  has 
ruined  him." 


CHAPTER    I\' 
1 795- 1 798 

SHORTLY  after  these  events  the  rermons  re- 
turned to  Paris,  stayin<^  on  their  way  at 
the  chateau  of  Madame  Saint-Angc,  who  led 
a  simple  country  life  there  with  her  husband  and 
children.  Long  afterwards,  when  Madame  Saint- 
Ange  was  staying  at  Laura's  house  in  Paris,  and  saw 
her  hurrying  home  to  dress  for  some  Court  festivit}' 
with  scarcely  time  to  speak  to  her  children,  she  said 
to  her,  "  Well,  are  you  happier  now  than  when  you 
played  with  your  cousins  and  gathered  mulberries  at 
Saint  Michel  ?" 

They  arrived  at  Paris  early  in  September,  and 
stopped  at  the  Hotel  de  I'Autruche  (formerly  called 
Hotel  d'Autriche). 

The  journey  had  been  very  tiring,  and  when  Albert 
came  to  see  them  he  was  shocked  at  the  appearance 
of  his  father. 

They  sent  immediately  for  their  own  doctor,  who 
asked  for  a  consultation,  but  a  bad  attack  of  fever 
still  further  reduced  his  strength. 

Napoleon  came  directly  he  heard  they  were  in  Paris 
and  visited  them  ever\'  day,  sending  them  the  news 
of  what  was  going  on  in  the  morning  when  he  could 


70  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1795-170^ 

not  get  there  early,  for  Paris  was  again  in  a  disturbed 
and  dangerous  state. 

He  was  sitting  with  them  one  evening  when  M. 
Permon  was  so  much  worse  that  Madame  Permon 
wanted  the  doctor.  Albert  was  not  there,  and  none 
of  the  servants  dared  go  into  the  streets.  Napoleon 
said  nothing,  but  ran  downstairs.  It  was  pouring 
with  rain,  and  there  were  no  cabs  to  be  got,  but  he 
returned,  wet  through,  with  the  doctor. 

Paris  was  now  like  a  besieged  city.  All  night  the 
challenge  and  reply  of  the  sentinels  could  be  heard 
under  the  windows.  There  was  a  strict  search  for 
arms,  and  every  man  fit  for  service  was  summoned  to 
the  section. 

M.  Permon  was  very  ill  one  afternoon  in  October, 
when  three  fellows  forced  their  way  into  the  sa/ou  in 
spite  of  the  representations  of  the  landlord,  demanding 
with  brutal  insolence  why  he  had  not  presented  him- 
self, and  on  being  told  that  he  was  ill  in  bed  tried  to 
enter  his  room. 

Napoleon  arrived  and  found  Madame  Permon 
defending  the  door,  her  indignant  defiance  having  for 
the  moment  stopped  and  disconcerted  the  ruffians. 
He  managed  to  clear  the  house,  promising  to  go  him- 
self to  the  section  and  complain  of  them  to  the 
President,  but  adding — ■ 

"  Everything  is  on  the  brink  of  an  explosion  in 
Paris  to-day ;  you  must  be  most  careful  in  all  you  do 
or  say.  Albert  ought  not  to  go  out.  You  must  see  to 
all  that.  Mademoiselle  Laurette,  for  your  poor  mother 
is  in  a  dreadful  state." 

Madame  Permon  had,  in  fact,  a  bad  attack  of 
spasms,  to  which  she  was  liable  after  any  great  agitation. 


i7os-i7';^]         •'/'  \'.U'Oi.i:oxs  corRi  71 

M.  Pennon  became  worse  and  worse  all  night,  and 
in  the  morninLT  the  well-known  terrible  sound  of  the 


XAPOLEON    AT  ARCOLA. 
(Gros.) 


drums  and  the  hurr\-ing  tramp  in  the  streets   filled 
them  with  fear. 


72  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1795-1798 

M.  Permon,  aware  of  his  own  danger,  sent  for  his 
lawyer,  but  he  could  not  be  found,  the  streets  were 
very  unsafe,  and  as  twilight  drew  on,  though  the 
theatres  were  open,  the  tumult  increased. 

Napoleon  had  been  in  two  or  three  times  ;  he  came 
while  they  were  at  dessert,  drank  some  coffee,  ate 
some  grapes,  and  hurried  out  again,  saying  that  if 
there  was  any  interesting  news  he  would  come  back. 
However,  he  did  not  return,  and  everything  looked 
more  threatening ;  the  street  was  bristling  with 
bayonets,  and  they  were  making  barricades  under  the 
windows.  All  that  night  and  all  the  next  day  the 
preparations  and  commotion  went  on,  and  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  first  shot  was  the  signal 
for  a  cannonade  which  seemed  to  come  from  all  over 
Paris.  The  night  that  followed  was  a  fearful  one  to 
Laura.  Amidst  the  deafening  noise  of  the  cannon 
she  watched  by  the  death-bed  of  her  father,  while  her 
mother  seemed  in  nearly  as  desperate  a  condition. 
The  next  morning  the  firing  ceased,  order  and  calm 
were  re-established,  but  M.  Permon  only  lived  a  day 
or  two  longer,  the  agitation  of  that  time  had  been  too 
much  for  him.  His  family  were  broken-hearted,  and 
during  this  time  of  sadness  Napoleon  was  continually 
with  them  and  showed  them  all  the  affection  of  a  son 
and  a  brother. 

Ever  since  they  came  to  Paris  Albert  had  been 
arranging  about  a  house  for  them,  and  had  taken 
one  in  the  Chaussce-d*Antin,  which,  without  being 
very  large,  had  room  enough  for  Cccile  and  her 
husband  also,  whenever  they  should  come  to 
Paris. 

Into  this  liousc  they  moved,  glad  to  get  awa}'  ffom 


i795-i7')«]  '■"■  y.irOLEOX'S  COrRT  73 

the  Hotel  dc  rAutruche,  with  its  sad  associations. 
J^Lit  now  arose  another  trouble,  the  weight  of  which, 
in  spite  of  her  extreme  \outh,  Laura  was  obli<^ed  to 
bear.  The  affairs  of  M.  Permon  were  in  such  a  state 
that  when  he  died  there  seemed  to  be  nothin<j  left 
from  which  any  income  could  be  derived. 

When  Albert  told  his  sister  the  result  of  the 
examination  of  their  father's  papers,  she  at  first 
declared  that  it  was  impossible. 

"  Left  nothing  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  And  the  mone\- 
he  took  to  England  ? " 

"  There  is  not  a  deed,  not  a  paper,  not  a  trace  of  it. 
M)'  father  always  paid  c\cr\thing  as  long  as  he  was 
at  Bordeau.x,  and  since  he  came  to  Paris  has  told 
Brunetiere  nothing.  Mother,  as  you  know,  never 
spoke  to  him  about  money  or  business.  As  to  me, 
if  he  told  me  nothing  when  we  were  in  England,  he 
was  not  likely  to  do  so  since." 

"My  God  !  "  exclaimed  Laura,  "this  will  kill  mother. 
She  will  never  be  able  to  bear  hardships." 

M.  Permon  had,  in  fact,  had  the  foolish  and  mis- 
chievous habit — which,  however,  is  far  less  common  in 
Erance  than  in  England — of  entireh'  concealing  all 
his  mone\-  matters  from  those  to  whom  it  was  of  \ital 
importance  to  know  them.  His  wife,  when  he  married 
her,  was  nothing  but  a  beautiful  child,  brought  up  in 
the  greatest  simplicity  in  Corsica,  who  knew  nothing 
even  of  household  management,  and  spoke  onl\- 
Italian  and  Greek. 

It  was  some  time  before  she  could  speak  Erench 
properl)'.  and  her  husband  had  got  into  the  way  of 
managing  everything,  even  the  household  arrange- 
ments, while  he   surrounded   her   with   ever}-  luxur\- 


74  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1795-179S 

and  pleasure,  expecting  her  to  do  nothing  but  amuse 
herself,  entertain,  and  make  the  house  pleasant. 

Albert  and  Laura  resolved  that  for  the  present 
they  would  tell  her  nothing  about  the  disastrous  state 
of  their  affairs.  They  had  plenty  of  ready  money 
to  go  on  with  for  some  time,  and  Albert  decided  to 
apply  to  Napoleon,  who  would  get  him  a  post  which 
would  enable  him  to  support  his  mother  and  sister. 

For  Napoleon  had  now  not  only  the  will  but  the 
power  to  help  them.  An  extraordinary  change  had 
of  late  been  taking  place  in  his  habits,  circumstances, 
and  position.  Far  removed  were  the  days  in  which 
it  had  been  a  kindness  to  ask  him  to  dinner,  and 
when,  as  he  could  not  afford  to  take  a  cab,  he  would 
come  into  the  room  with  wet  boots,  which  creaked  as 
he  walked  about  and  smelt  when  he  sat  by  the  fire 
to  dry  them,  excruciating  the  ears  or  the  nose  of 
Madame  Permon,  whom  he  was  then  so  anxious  not 
to  displease. 

Now,  almost  suddenly,  he  was  an  important 
personage,  was  well  dressed,  always  came  in  a  well- 
appointed  carriage,  and  had  a  suitable  house  in  the 
rue  des  Capucines.  He  came  to  see  them  every  day 
just  the  same,  only  that  now  and  then  he  brought 
one  of  his  aidcs-de-cavip,  or  his  uncle  Fesch. 

Paris  was  suffering  from  scarcity  of  food  ;  there 
was  great  distress  in  consequence,  which  Buonaparte 
did  his  best  to  relieve.  He  caused  distributions  of 
bread  and  firewood  to  be  made,  and  often  gave 
Laura  tickets  for  poor  families  to  obtain  them. 

Many  difficulties  beset  them  in  the  arrangement 
of  their  new  home.  Madame  Permon,  knowing 
nothing   about    the   state  of   their  affairs,  supposed 


1 795-1798]  AT   X.U'Ol.KOXS   COURT  75 

that  they  were  sufficiently  well  off.  As  to  the  money 
her  husband  had  placed  in  England  when  he  saw 
that  things  were  going  wrong,  he  had,  contrary  to 
his  custom,  told  her  about  it  ;  but  his  unfortunate 
folly  in  never  having  explained  or  taught  her  any- 
thing about  business  matters  had  made  her  incapable 
of  comprehending  them,  consequently  she  neither 
understood  nor  remembered  what  he  said.  Accus- 
tomed to  the  most  lavish  expenditure,  she  now 
insisted  on  furnishing  her  house  with  all  the  luxury 
usual  at  the  time  she  first  came  to  live  in  France 
at  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  when  the 
splendour  of  the  French  monarch}-  was  at  its 
height. 

She  had  a  box  at  the  Theatre  Feydeau,  for  as  her 
deep  mourning  prevented  her  opening  her  sa/o?/  or 
going  into  society,  the  solitude  of  her  life  preyed 
upon  her  spirits  and  health.  She  went  there  every 
evening  for  two  or  three  hours,  and  was  generally 
joined  by  Napoleon.  One  da}'  he  told  her  that  he 
had  a  project  to  unite  tiicir  families  by  marriage. 

"  I  wish,"  he  said,  "  to  marry  Paulette  to  Permon. 
He  has  some  fortune"  (tiie  state  of  his  affairs  was 
not  }-et  known) ;  "  my  sister  has  nothing,  but  I  am 
in  a  position  to  do  a  great  deal  for  my  famil}',  and 
I  can  give  her  husband  a  good  post.  It  is  a  marriage 
that  would  make  me  happy,  and  }'ou  know  how 
pretty  my  sister  is.  My  mother  is  your  friend. 
Come,  say  }-es,  and  the  affair  shall  be  arranged." 

Madame  Permon  said  neither  yes  nor  no,  but 
replied  that  Albert  was  his  own  master,  that  she 
would  not  influence  him  cither  wa}-,  but  that  it 
depended  upon  him. 


76  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i795-i79^ 

This  marriage  would  have  been  suitable  enough 
in  many  ways,  but  Napoleon  next  proposed  to 
marry  Laura  to  Louis  or  Jerome,  his  two  youngest 
brothers. 

"Jerome  is  younger  than  Laurette,"  replied  Madame 
Permon,  laughing.  "  Really,  Napoleon,  }'ou  are  like 
a  high  priest  to-day,  marrying  everybody,  even  the 
children." 

He  laughed  too,  but  with  an  embarrassed  air, 
and  proceeded  to  propose  that  she  should  herself 
marry  him. 

Such  was  her  astonishment  at  this  suggestion  that 
she  first  looked  at  him  with  stupefaction  and  then 
went  into  fits  of  laughter.  Perceiving,  however,  that 
he  was  offended  at  this,  she  hastened  to  explain 
that  she  was  the  person  who  would  be  made  ridiculous 
b)'  such  an  arrangement. 

"  My  dear  Napoleon,"  she  said,  when  she  stopped 
laughing,  "  let  us  be  serious.  You  think  you  know 
my  age.  Well,  \'ou  do  not ;  but  I  tell  you  that  I 
might  not  only  be  your  mother,  but  Joseph's.  Let 
us  leave  off  such  jokes.     I  don't  like  them." 

Napoleon  assured  her  he  was  not  joking,  that  he 
cared  nothing  about  her  age  as  she  did  not  look 
thirty  ;  that  he  wanted  to  marry  a  woman  who  was 
good,  pleasant,  charming,  and  belonged  to  the 
faubourg  St.  Geniiain.  He  begged  her  to  reflect, 
which  she  promised  to  do,  but  gave  him  no  hope  of 
a  favourable  result  to  her  reflections,  assuring  him 
that  she  had  no  pretensions  to  gain  the  heart  of  a 
man  of  six-and-twenty,  and  that  she  hoped  this 
would  not  disturb  their  friendship. 

But  by  this  and  another  circumstance  which  took 


1795-179^]  'i'i'  S'.iPOI.EOX'S   COCRI  77 

place,  the  lon^^,  affectionate,  and  intimate  friendship 
wliich  had  always  existed  between  thein  was  de- 
stroyed. They  were  never  upon  the  same  terms 
again.     It  ha[)pcned   in   this  way. 

A  cousin  of  Madame  Permon,  a  certain  Dino 
Stephanopoli,  had  latel)'  arrived  from  Corsica,  and 
asked  her  to  help  him  to  get  a  commission  in  the 
army.  She  applied  to  Napoleon,  who  promised  to 
obtain  it  without  delay  from  the  Minister  of  War. 
Two  days  afterwards  Madame  Permon  inquired  if 
he  had  attended  to  the  matter,  and  he  told  her  that 
he  had  done  so,  that  he  had  the  promise  of  the  brevet 
from  the  War  Office,  and  would  bring  it  himself  the 
next  da)'. 

That  next  day  was,  however,  the  one  of  his  unex- 
pected proposals  of  marriage,  and  when,  after  Madame 
Permon's  unfavourable  reception  of  them,  he  was 
sitting  next  her  at  dinner,  she  recurred  to  the  subject, 
asking  him  where  was  the  brevet,  which  she  considered 
already  hers. 

Napoleon,  who  did  not  seem  altogether  to  like  this 
peremptory  manner  of  demanding  rather  than  asking 
a  favour,  pushed  away  his  plate  with  an  impatient 
frown,  and  Madame  Permon,  who  would  not  realise 
the  changed  position  of  the  extraordinary  genius 
whom  she  was  accustomed  to  treat  like  a  wilful  lad 
in  need  of  advice,  proceeded  to  make  some  half- 
laughing  but  reproving  remark  u[)on  his  irritation, 
lie  excused  himself,  promising  the  brevet  for  the 
next  day  without  fail. 

That  evening  when  he  was  gone  Madame  i-'ermon 
confided  to  her  son  the  proposals  of  marriage  she 
had  received  from  Napoleon,  and  asked  him  whether 


78  A    LEADER   OE   SOCIETY  [1795- 1798 

he  wished  to  accept  his  offer  of  Pauline  as  his  wife, 
but  he  decHned. 

On  Monday  morning  Napoleon  rode  up  to  the 
house,  surrounded  by  a  brilliant  staff  of  officers,  with 
whom  he  entered  the  room,  and  approaching  Madame 
Fermon  in  the  highest  spirits  kissed  her  hand,  paying 
her  at  the  same  time  various  compliments. 

Unluckily,  she  had  just  received  a  long  letter  from 
Stephanopoli  full  of  ridiculous  complaints  of  the 
delay  in  getting  his  commission.  Irritated  by  this, 
she  snatched  away  her  hand  and  asked  for  the 
brevet. 

He  replied  that  it  was  not  ready,  but  that  she  should 
have  it  on  the  following  day,  whereupon  Madame 
Fermon  who  was  hasty,  impetuous,  and  accustomed 
to  have  her  own  way,  flew  into  a  passion,  refusing  to 
listen  to  his  explanations,  and  giving  vent  to  her 
anger  in  reproaches  and  taunts  more  vehement  than 
dignified,  while  the  conversation  which  was  going  on 
around  them  stopped,  and  amidst  an  embarrassed 
silence  all  eyes  were  turned  towards  them. 

M.  Chauvet,  a  friend  of  both,  interposed  and  tried 
to  make  peace,  but  Madame  Fermon  would  not  hear 
him  and  went  on  with  her  unfortunate  and  unsuitable 
remarks  in  the  hearing  of  Napoleon's  aides-de-camp, 
in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  he  addressed  to  her  in 
an  undertone  and  in  Italian.  Seeing  that  she  was 
impracticable,  he  observed  that  he  should  hope  to 
find  her  calmer  and  more  just  another  day,  and  was 
about  to  kiss  her  hand  in  farewell,  but  she  again 
snatched  it  violently  away  and  folded  her  arms  with 
a  scornful  smile. 

With  an  imijaticnt  gesture  Napoleon  bowed  and 


•7'^5-i79^]  --''^"  .\'APOLKO\S   COrRT  79 

turned  away.  M.  Chauvet,  seeing  that  the  affair 
was  serious  and  that  he  was  going  slowly  downstairs, 
was  anxious  to  recall  him,  but  Madame  Permon's 
foolish  obstinacy  and  loss  of  temper  would  not  allow 
him  to  do  so. 

Albert  had,  unfortunately,  been  absent  at  the  time, 
and  was  in  despair  when  on  his  return  in  the  evening 
his  mother  told  him  what  she  had  done,  but  the 
mischief  was  irreparable.  For  several  days  the}'  did 
not  see  Napoleon  ;  then  he  called  when  he  knew  they 
would  be  at  the  theatre,  after  which  his  visits  ceased. 
Shortl)'  afterwards  they  heard  that  he  had  been  made 
Commander-in-chief  of  the  army  in  Italy,  and  before 
his  departure  they  only  saw  him  once  under  the  most 
melancholy  circumstances. 

It  was  on  the  ist  February,  1796.  Madame  Permon 
and  Laura  had  gone  up  to  the  second  floor  of  their 
house,  which  was  occupied  by  Albert,  as  he  had  a 
bad  cold  and  could  not  come  down.  Therefore  the)' 
dined  and  spent  the  evening  in  his  rooms  and  were 
talking  and  laughing  merrily.  Madame  Permon  had 
an  excellent  marriage  in  view  for  Albert,  and  was 
saying  that  if  Laura  were  also  married  early  there 
was  no  reason  why  she  should  not  have  five-and- 
twenty  grandchildren. 

Cecile  had  been  confined  about  a  month  since,  and 
Madame  Permon,  remarking  that  she  would  make 
a  charming  young  mother  and  that  she  would  like 
very  much  to  see  her  and  her  little  son,  leaned  back 
on  her  sofa  and  fell  into  a  reverie.  It  was  about  nine 
o'clock,  and  at  that  time,  especiall)'  in  that  quarter 
of  Paris,  there  was  not  much  traffic  in  the  streets. 
There  was  a  long  silence,  which  was  suddenly  broken 


8o  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1795-1798 

by  a  loud  knockini^  at  the  door,  which  startled 
them  all. 

"  The  noise  has  made  me  feel  quite  ill,"  said 
Madame  Permon.  "  Who  can  be  so  ill-bred  as  to 
knock  in   that  way  ?  " 

Steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs,  and  a  moment  after 
a  letter  was  handed  to  Albert. 

"  Ah  !  news  of  Cccile,"  said  he  ;  "  it's  from  Brive, 
and  in  Geouffre's  handwriting." 

"  Whom  has  he  lost  ?  "  asked  Laura,  for  the  seal 
was  black. 

Albert  tore  open  the  letter  and  turned  deadly  pale. 

"What  does  he  say?"  cried  Madame  Permon, 
starting  up  in  alarm. 

"Cccile  has  been  ill,  but  is  better,"  faltered  Albert ; 
but  his  mother  caught  the  letter  out  of  his  hand  and 
with  a  terrible  cry  threw  herself  upon  her  knees. 
Cccile  was  dead. 

Her  illness  had  been  sudden,  and  her  husband  and 
all  her  family  were  plunged  in  the  deepest  grief.  M. 
de  Geouffre  came  to  Paris  soon  afterwards  to  see 
them,  and  promised  later  on  to  bring  the  little 
Adolphe,  to  whom  Laura  was  always  devotedly 
attached. 

Napoleon,  on  hearing  next  day  of  this  new  cala- 
mity, came  at  once  to  see  them  and  behaved  with 
much  kindness,  but  Madame  Permon  was  too  over- 
come to  talk  to  him,  and  he  left  Paris  almost  unmc- 
diately.  He  was  then  married  to  Josephine  de 
Beauharnais. 

They  were  obliged  to  explain  to  Madame  Permon 
the  disastrous  state  of  their  affairs,  but  the  far  greater 
sorrows  she    had    suffered   rendered    her    almost   in- 


1795-179^]  -iT  XAPOLEOXS   COURT  «i 

different  to  this,  though  she  made  retrenchments  in 
her  expenditure.  Just  at  that  time  the  death  of  her 
old  friend,  the  Comte  de  Pcrigord,  brought  another 
blank  into  her  hfe.  She  became  ill  again,  and  the 
doctors  ordered  her  to  Cauterets. 

Albert  had  refused  a  post  in  India,  as  it  would 
have  separated  him  for  fifteen  years  from  his  mother 
and  sister,  but  he  now  received  the  offer  of  one  in 
Italy,  for  which  they  believed  Napoleon  was  respon- 
sible. This  he  accepted,  and  accordingly  preparations 
were  made  for  their  departure  to  their  different 
destinations. 

If  it  had  not  been  an  absolute  necessity  Albert 
would  not  have  left  his  mother  to  the  sole  care  of 
Laura,  then  not  thirteen  )'ears  old.  But  it  could  not 
be  helped,  and  Laura  was  far  older  than  her  years  ; 
so  with  many  directions  and  promises  to  write  con- 
stantly they  took  a  mournful  leave  of  each  other  and 
started,  he  for  Italy  and  they  for  the  P)'renees. 

They  made  a  long  stay  at  Cauterets,  and  the  health 
of  Madame  Permon  seemed  to  be  quite  restored  by 
the  mountain  air,  the  change  of  scene,  and  the 
excitement  of  the  journey. 

They  then  returned  to  Paris  and  took  up  their  old 
life,  so  far  as  the  altered  state  of  society  and  things  in 
general  permitted. 

Among  their  friends  at  Paris  were  the  Saint- 
Mesmes,  a  Marseillaise  family,  with  whom  the>'  were 
on  intimate  terms.  The  custom  of  having  two  or 
three  children  only  had  not  yet  begun  in  France,  and 
M.  and  Madame  de  Saint-Mesmes  had  six  or  seven. 
Two  of  the  girls  were  nearly  of  Laura's  age,  and  for 
their    religious  instruction  there  lived  in    the    house 

7 


82  A    LEADER  *0F  SOCIETY  [1795-1798 

a  Benedictine  nun,  Sister  Rosalie,  whom  M.  and 
Madame  de  Saint-Mesmes  had  protected  during  the 
Terror,  and  who  was  deeply  attached  to  them  in 
consequence. 

The  churches  were  now  beginning  to  be  re-opened, 
though  still  only  here  and  there  ;  and  it  was  proposed 
that  the  confirmation  and  first  communion  of  the 
children,  so  long  deprived  of  those  holy  sacraments, 
should  be  celebrated. 

Sister  Rosalie  was  collecting  a  class  of  young  girls 
for  preparation,  and  invited  Laura  to  join. 

The  nearest  church  to  be  had  was  still  at  a  con- 
siderable distance  from  the  Chaussee  d'Antin,  being 
the  Church  of  Bonne-Nonvellc  in  the  quartiey  Pois- 
sonicrc,  in  the  sacristy  of  which  the  class  was  held 
every  morning  at  half-past  eight  by  the  cure  of  the 
parish,  M.  de  Cani,  an  excellent  man,  who  was  adored 
by  his  parishioners  and  had  risked  his  life  rather 
than  leave  them  during  the  late  perilous  times. 

Early  in  the  morning  Sister  Rosalie  went  round  to 
the  different  houses  to  fetch  the  young  girls  and  take 
them  to  the  church,  where,  gathered  round  the  vener- 
able priest,  who  had  just  escaped  the  perils  of  pro- 
scription and  was  ready,  like  the  carl}'  confessors  of 
the  Christian  faith,  to  risk  his  life  again  at  an}' 
moment,  they  listened  to  his  instructions  with  the 
enthusiastic  devotion  called  forth  by  the  dangers  and 
persecutions  which  surrounded  those  who  dared  to 
profess  a  religion  in  the  reign  of  "  liberty,  equality, 
and  fraternity."  The  preparation  went  on  for  six 
weeks,  and  the  day  appointed  for  the  first  communion 
was  Easter  Monday,  1798,  the  confirmation  to  take 
place  on  Easter  Tuesday. 


i795-i79«]  iT  XAPOLEOX'S   COURT  83 

Years  had  passed  since  any  such  spectacle  had 
been  seen  in  France,  and  immense  crowds  assembled 
to  witness  it.  The  church  of  Bo7inc-Nouvelle  on 
both  days  was  so  crowded  that  the  children  could 
hardly  pass  up  to  the  altar,  and  the  bishop  who  con- 
firmed was  obliged  to  stand  to  administer  that  sacra- 
ment upon  the  steps  outside  the  church.  Multitudes 
of  people,  delirious  with  joy,  were  thronging  the  streets 
outside,  pressing  into  the  church,  many  of  them 
shedding  tears  as  they  recognised  a  child,  a  sister,  a 
niece  or  a  grandchild  among  the  veiled,  white-robed 
girls  kneeling  at  the  altar,  once  more  covered  with 
lights  and  flowers.  Here  and  there  among  the  crowd 
were  heard  muttered  prayers  and  ejaculations  from 
unwonted  lips  and  murmured  wishes  from  strange, 
rough-looking  spectators  that  the  prayers  of  the 
innocent  children  might  help  them  too,  whilst 
women  held  up  their  little  ones  to  the  bishop,  ex- 
claiming, '"  Bless  him,  bless  him,  Monseigneur  !  Alas  ! 
we  shall  perhaps  never  see  you  again ! " 


CHAPTER   V 

1 798- 1 800 

THE  news  from  Italy  was  one  long  triumph. 
Battle  after  battle  was  won  by  the  young 
Corsican  leader,  now  the  idol  of  France. 

He  had  been  very  good  to  Albert,  receiving  him 
as  an  old  friend,  and  seemed  much  surprised  that 
xAlbert,  who  was  very  intimate  with  Joseph  Buona- 
parte, thought  it  best,  in  consequence  of  the  quarrel 
between  his  mother  and  Napoleon,  to  bring  a  letter 
of  recommendation  from  the  former  to  the  latter. 

"  What  is  this  letter  for  ?  "  said  Napoleon  when  he 
saw  it.  "  Why  should  you  feel  such  distrust  of 
yourself?  " 

Albert  replied  that  he  was  afraid  the  unfortunate 
altercation  with  his  mother  might  have  disposed  the 
general  unfavourably  towards  himself,  to  which 
Napoleon  replied,  laughing,  that  he  thought  no  more 
about  it,  and  was  afraid  Madame  Permon  bore  him 
more  ill-will  than  he  did  to  her,  which  was  perhaps 
natural,  as  she  was  in  the  wrong. 

Albert  had  a  post  at  Massa-Carrara,  where  he 
entangled  himself  in  a  love  affair  with  the  wife  of  his 

landlord  and  ran  away  with  her,  to  the  indignation 

84 


1798-1800]  J    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  85 

not  only  of  her  husband  but  of  General  Lannes,  who 
was  quartered  near  Massa,  and  was  in  love  with  her 
too.  They  [Hirsued  and  brouy,ht  back  the  young 
people,  but  the  affair  caused  Madame  Permon  much 
uneasiness,  and  her  health  was  beginning  to  be 
seriously  affected  again. 

Napoleon  was  received  in  triumph  on  his  return 
from  Italy,  and  entered  Paris  amidst  the  acclamations 
of  the  people. 

The  Parisians,  so  long  deprived  of  gaiety  and 
amusement,  threw  off  the  gloom  and  restraint  under 
which  they  were  becoming  every  day  more  impatient, 
and  celebrated  their  victories  by  the  most  brilliant 
festivities.  One  /Jie  succeeded  another  ;  money  was 
lavishly  spent ;  everybody  joined  eagerl\-  and  much 
more  indiscriminately  in  whatever  pleasures  came 
in  their  way  than  would  have  been  dreamed  of 
twenty  years  earlier. 

Although  she  was  onl\'  fourteen  years  old,  Laura 
went  everywhere  with  her  mother.  One  night,  at  a 
great  party  given  by  Talleyrand,  who  was  then  Foreign 
Minister,  at  the  Hotel  Galifet,  rue  du  Bac,  they  met 
Napoleon  walking  with  the  Turkish  Ambassador. 
Madame  Permon,  who  was  with  1\I.  de  Caulaincourt, 
bowed  and  was  passing  on,  but  General  Buonaparte 
came  up,  and,  looking  at  her  with  much  admiration, 
for  she  was  one  of  the  handsomest  women  present, 
he  shook  hands  and  remained  for  some  minutes  talk- 
ing to  her  and  Laura,  thereb}'  drawing  the  attention 
of  everybody  upon  them. 

Soon  after  this,  Madame  I'ermon  became  so  dan- 
gerously ill  that  for  some  time  her  life  was  despaired 
of.     It  was  a  terrible  position  for  a  girl  scarcely  more 


86  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1798- 1800 

than  a  child.  Albert  was  still  in  Italy,  and  their 
mother  depended  entirely  upon  Laura,  who,  with  the 
help  of  their  faithful  Alsatian  maid,  nursed  her  night 
and  day  for  six  weeks.  At  length,  however,  contrary 
to  the  expectations  of  the  three  doctors  who  attended 
her,  she  began  to  recover,  and  by  the  end  of  the 
autumn  she  was  well  again. 

That  winter  was  a  very  gay  one.  The  expedition 
to  Egypt  was  decided  upon,  but  thousands  of  families 
were  rejoicing  at  the  return  of  fathers,  husbands, 
brothers,  and  sons  ;  the  air  was  full  of  triumphs  and 
victories  ;  every  one  was  in  the  highest  spirits. 

French  society  was  at  this  time  in  a  singular  state. 
Everywhere  the  strange  mixture  of  classes  and 
opinions,  brought  about  by  the  events  of  the  last  few 
years,  had  entirely  altered  the  composition  and  tone 
of  the  salons  of  Paris.  In  that  of  Madame  Permon, 
like  many  others,  now  congregated  a  miscellaneous 
crowd  whose  principles,  education,  manners,  and 
habits  were  so  different  as  to  render  impossible  the 
sort  of  harmonious  intimacy  and  confidence  which 
had  formerly  been  usual,  but  on  the  other  hand  pro- 
duced a  great  deal  more  variety,  interest,  and 
excitement  than  were  to  be  found  in  the  old  state 
of  things. 

Thither  came  officials  of  the  new  Government, 
officers  of  the  army — many  of  them  risen  from 
the  ranks,  visionary  artists  and  literary  men,  to 
whom  even  all  the  horrors  only  just  past  had  not 
taught  wisdom,  and  who  still  hankered  after  a 
Republic  ;  idiotic  young  men  who  called  themselves 
by  classical  names,  wore  Greek  and  Roman  costumes 
in  the   streets  of   Paris  and   believed  themselves  to 


1798-1800]  AT   XAPOI.I-OXS   COCRT  S7 

be  capable  of  regulating  the  affairs  (jf  the  State  ; 
and  lastly  those  old  friends  and  accjuaintances  of 
Madame  Permon  who  belonged  to  the  fanboufi^ 
St.  Geriiuxitt  and  formed  the  largest  part  of  the 
society  that  gathered  round  her. 

Since  the  rapid  rise  of  Napoleon,  Madame  Bucjna- 
parte  and  her  other  sons  and  daughters  had  come 
to  Paris.  Joseph,  whom,  much  to  Napoleon's  dis- 
pleasure, the  rest  of  his  brothers  and  sisters  persisted 
in  regarding  as  the  head  of  the  family,  was  hand- 
some, pleasant  and  courteous  in  manner,  a  great 
favourite  amongst  his  friends  and  family,  but  with 
no  particular  talents  or  ambition.  His  wife  was  a 
gentle,  sweet-tempered  woman,  whose  sister,  Uesirce 
Clar}',  had  just  been  married  to  Bernadotte,  afterwards 
King  of  Sweden. 

Lucien  Buonaparte  came  next  to  Napoleon  in 
birth  and  talent.  He  was  upright  and  honourable, 
but  a  fanatical  Republican,  who  called  himself 
Brutus,  indulged  in  all  sorts  of  preposterous  follies, 
and  married  the  daughter  of  the  innkeeper  in  the 
little  village  of  Saint-Maximin,  which  he  persisted 
in  calling  Marathon,  and  in  which  he  had  some  kind 
of  employment.  His  proceedings  excited  the  vexa- 
tion of  his  family,  especially  of  Napoleon,  who  was 
very  angr)'  but  could  do  nothing  with  him.  Louis 
was  at  this  time  about  eighteen  years  old.  He  was 
plain,  delicate,  shy  and  reserved  ;  had  simples  tastes, 
hated  society  and  public  life,  but  was  by  many  people 
said  to  be  the  best  of  his  famil}'.  Jerome,  of  whom 
there  is  not  much  good  to  be  told,  was  then  a  boy  at 
school. 

If  Napoleon's  brothers  were  wanting  in  ambition, 


88  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1798-1800 

the  same  could  not  be  said  of  his  sisters,  all  of  whom 
were  inordinately  vain,  extravagant,  and  greedy  for 
power  and  money. 

The  eldest,  Marianne,  or,  as  s-he  was  sometimes 
called,  Elisa,  was  now  Madame  Bacciochi.  She 
seems  to  have  been  the  least  attractive  of  the  three, 
and  was  not  generally  liked.  Pauline,  now  the  wife 
of  General  Leclerc,  was  extremely  beautiful  and 
remarkably  silly  ;  she  was  Napoleon's  favourite. 
Annunciata,  afterwards  called  Caroline,  was  then  at 
the  famous  school  of  Madame  Campan  at  Saint- 
Germain. 

Madame  Leclerc  came  constantly  to  the  house  of 
Madame  Permon,  who  was  very  fond  of  her,  and  who 
also  visited  all  the  other  members  of  the  family  except 
Napoleon,  with  whom  the  quarrel  she  had  made  about 
Stephanopoli  had  never  been  made  up. 

The  family  and  the  wife  of  Napoleon  hated  each 
other.  Josephine,  widow  of  the  Vicomte  de  Beau- 
harnais,  was  a  Creole,  and  several  years  older  than 
her  second  husband.  She  was  pretty,  charming  in 
manner,  and  kind-hearted,  but  thoughtless,  frivolous, 
and  extravagant.  Napoleon  had  the  greatest  aver- 
sion to  her  mixing  herself  in  any  way  in  political 
matters,  and  desired  that  she  would  not  speak  of 
them  at  all,  saying,  "  Whatever  you  say  is  supposed 
to  come  from  me ;  therefore  say  nothing  upon  those 
subjects,  so  that  my  enemies,  by  whom  you  are 
surrounded,  may  not  be  able  to  draw  silly  conclu- 
sions from  your  remarks." 

It  was  not  in  Napoleon's  disposition  to  feel  deep  or 
lasting  affection  for  anybody  but  himself,  and  his 
ideas  about  women  belonged  rather  to  the  Oriental 


1 798-1800] 


AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT 


89 


character  than  to  Western  civih'sation  ;  but  at  this 
time,  and  in  his  own  way,  he  loved  Josephine.  As 
he   told    Madame    Permon,    he    wished    to    marrv  a 


JOSKPHINK,   E.MPKESS  OK   FKANCK.    WIHO   OV   NAPOLEON"   I.,   N1.E   1-ASCllKK    DK   LA 
PAOERIE,    WIDOW   OK   ALEXANDRE.    VICOJITE    DE    BEAfHAKXAIS   ( I7^>3-lSl4). '_'. 

(Bclliard.) 


woman  of  the  old  regime,  and  just  then  he  found  this 
marriage  suited  his  plans ;  notwithstanding  which, 
nothing  irritated  him  more  than  for  it  to  be  said,  as 


90  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1798-1800 

it  continually  was,  that  he  derived  any  advantage  or 
assistance  from  his  wife,  her  connections,  or  friends  ; 
he  was  also  jealous  and  tyrannical.  Josephine,  how- 
ever, was  much  attached  to  him,  and  so  were  Eugene 
and  Hortense,  her  son  and  daughter  by  her  first 
husband,  who  had  perished  in  the  Revolution. 

One  of  the  most  intimate  friends  of  the  Permons 
was  the  old  Marquis  de  Caulaincourt,  who  lived 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  them,  and  was  constantly 
in  their  house.  His  children  and  Laura  were  like 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  she  always  called  him 
"  Petit  Papa."  He  wore  the  dress  and  preserved  the 
manners  of  the  stately  Court  of  the  Bourbons,  and 
seemed  to  belong  to  a  bygone  age,  though  he  was  an 
old  friend  of  Josephine,  and  allowed  his  sons  to 
serve  under  Napoleon,  which  many  young  men  of 
good  family  were  now  anxious  to  do. 

There  were  many  others,  however,  who  held  aloof, 
and  the  greater  number  of  the  returned  emigres  hated 
Napoleon  and  looked  with  disdain  upon  his  family, 
who  were  already  beginning  to  give  themselves  airs 
of  royalty,  which  made  them  ridiculous  in  the  eyes 
of  all  who  had  known  the  real  court  and  royal 
family  of  P'rance. 

Amongst  these  was  Madame  de  Contades,  daughter 
of  the  brave  Marquis  de  Bouillc,  who  commanded  in 
the  affair  of  Varennes,  when  the  King  and  Queen  "so 
nearly  escaped,  and  might  have  succeeded  in  doing 
so  if  Louis  had  possessed  any  spirit  or  decision  of 
character. 

Madame  de  Contades,  without  being  a  beauty,  was 
a  woman  of  striking  appearance  and  much  admired. 
She  was  one  of  the  lately  returned  einign'es,  detested 


179S-1800]  AT  XAPOLEOXS  COURT  Qi 

the  vcr)'  name  of  Napoleon,  made  li\;lit  of  his 
victories,  and  lau;4hcd  at  his  family,  refusing  even 
to  allow  that  Madame  Leclerc  was  beautiful. 

Just  after  the  departure  of  Napoleon  and  the  army 
for  Egypt,  Madame  Permon  gave  a  ball,  which  was 
attended  almost  exclusively  by  the  faubourg  St. 
Genmmi,  the  only  exceptions  being  a  few  men  who 
danced  remarkably  well  and  went  everywhere,  and 
the  Buonaparte  famil\-. 

Madame  Leclerc  spent  a  whole  week  in  arranging  a 
toilette  for  the  occasion,  which  she  declared  would 
immortalise  her,  and  about  which  she  made  as  much 
fuss  and  mystery  as  if  it  were  an  affair  of  State.  She 
asked  Madame  Permon  to  allow  her  to  dress  at  her 
house  for  fear  anything  might  injure  its  freshness  on 
the  wa)-  ;  and  when  she  thought  the  right  moment 
for  her  appearance  had  come — that  is  to  say,  when 
the  rooms  were  tolerably  full  and  yet  not  so  crowded 
as  to  prevent  her  from  being  observed — she  entered 
the  ballroom  and  made  her  way  to  the  place  reserved 
for  her  by  Madame  Permon. 

A  murmur  of  admiration  greeted  her,  and  she  was 
soon  surrounded  by  a  group  of  men,  some  of  whom 
had  left  Madame  de  Contades  to  come  to  her.  She 
had  certainly  succeeded  in  making  the  sensation  she 
wished:  every  one  was  talking  about  her  and  admiring 
her  beauty.  Presently  she  moved  her  seat,  and  took 
possession  of  a  large  sofa  in  the  boudoir  of  Madame 
Permon,  which,  being  much  more  empty,  she  thought 
would  allow  her  toilette  to  be  seen  better  than  the 
crowded  ballroom,  especially  as  it  was  brilliantly 
lighted.  All  sorts  of  remarks  of  another  description 
mingled  with  the  admiration  expressed  for  her  beaut)- 


92  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1798- 1800 

and  dress,  many  of  the  woman  exclaiming  at  the 
insolent  extravagance  of  the/c?nr;///^,  who  only  three 
years  ago  had  scarcely  food  to  eat. 

Madame  Permon  was  in  anxious  distress  lest  she 
should  hear  any  of  these  observations,  when  Madame 
de  Contades,  who  had  the  greatest  contempt  and 
dislike  for  Pauline  Leclerc,  and  was  further  irritated 
because  two  or  three  of  the  men  who  were  talking  to 
her  had  left  her  to  join  Pauline,  came  up  and  stood 
near,  looking  at  her  and  admiring  in  an  audible  voice 
her  dress,  her  face,  her  coiffure,  her  whole  appearance, 
in  fact,  till  suddenly  she  exclaimed  to  the  man 
who  stood  by  her,  '^  Ah  !  mon  Dieu  !  what  a  pity! 
But  how  can  such  a  deformity  have  escaped  notice  ? 
Mon  Dieu  !  how  unlucky  !  " 

Everybody  turned  to  see  ;  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
Pauline,  who  became  crimson,  while  Madame  de 
Contades,  with  her  looks  directed  to  her  head, 
repeated  in  a  compassionate  tone,  "  What  a  pity ! " 
and  some  one  asked,  "  But  what  is  it  ?  What  do  you 
see  ?"  "  What  do  I  see?  Could  anyone  help  seeing 
those  two  enormous  ears  planted  on  that  head  ?  If  I 
had  ears  like  those  I  should  have  them  cut  off,  and  I 
really  must  advise  her  to  do  the  same." 

There  was  an  end  of  Pauline's  success  for  that 
evening.  She  began  to  cry,  and  went  to  bed,  where 
Madame  Permon  came  to  see  her  the  next  morning 
and  listened  for  some  time  with  patience  while  she 
abused  Madame  de  Contades,  for  she  was  fond  of 
Pauline  and  thought  she  had  been  hardly  dealt  with  ; 
but  when,  after  saying  that  she  could  not  see  what 
people  found  to  admire  in  Madame  de  Contades,  and 
that  there  were  many  far  more  attractive  women  at 


179S-1800]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  93 

the  ball,  Madame  Leclerc  proceeded  to  single  out  a 
certain  Madame  de  Chauvelin  who  was  plain,  short- 
sighted, and  had  a  bad  figure,  Madame  l^ermon 
exclaimed  impatiently — 

"  But,  Paulette,  my  dear  child,  \'ou  are  mad,  quite 
mad  ! " 

"  I  assure  }'ou,  Madame  Permon,  that  Madame  de 
Chauvelin  is  very  well  dressed,  is  clever  and  not 
sarcastic." 

"  Whether  she  is  well  dressed  or  not  has  nothing  to 
do  with  the  question.  As  to  wit,  I  know  she  has 
plenty  ;  and  if  you  think  that  she  does  not  laugh  at 
anything  ridiculous  that  comes  in  her  wa)',  just  as 
much  as  Mcrote  "  (Madame  de  Contades)  "you  are 
uncommonly  mistaken,  my  poor  Paulette.  And  if  her 
short  sight  prevents  her  seeing,  her  husband  has  ver}' 
good  eyes,  and  can  see  everything  for  her,  I  can  tell 

}'OU." 

That  Madame  I'ermon,  charming  as  she  was, 
could  not  have  been  altogether  discriminating  in  her 
attachments  is  shown  by  her  affection  for  Jerome 
Buonaparte,  a  spoilt,  troublesome  bo\'  with  neither 
brains  nor  gratitude,  and  for  Pauline  Leclerc,  a 
frivolous,  empty-headed  woman,  who  cared  for 
nothing  but  dress  and  flirting,  and  could  not  bear 
any  one  to  be  admired  but  herself  She  even  envied 
her  young  sister  Caroline,  and  grumbled  when  their 
mother  took  her  for  a  holida}\ 

One  evening  at  Madame  Permon's  Madame  Buona- 
parte came  in  with  Caroline,  whom  she  had  brought 
from  Madame  Campan's  school.  Caroline  had  a 
lovely  complexion  and  fair,  curly  hair,  which  excited 
the  admiration  of  a  man  who  was  talking  to  Pauline. 


94  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1798-1800 

Therefore,  when  Caroline,  in  rather  a  rough,  awkward 
way,  ran  up  to  her  to  kiss  her,  Madame  Leclerc 
pushed  her  sister  away,  exclaiming — ■ 

"  Mon  Dieul  Mamma,  you  really  ought  to  teach 
Annunciata  not  to  be  so  brusque.  She  is  just  like  a 
peasant  of  Fiumorbo  !  "  1 

Caroline  turned  away  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  and 
Madame  Buonaparte  said  nothing,  though  much 
displeased  at  this  scene. 

Some  of  the  best  balls  given  at  this  early  period 
after  the  Revolution  were  those  of  Madame  de 
Caseaux,  whose  husband  had  been  President  of  the 
Parliament  of  Bordeaux.  She  received  nobody  who 
did  not  belong  to  the  faubourg  St.  Germain.  Her 
daughter  Laura  and  Melanie  de  Perigord  were  the 
most  intimate  friends  of  Laura  Permon.  There  were 
subscription  balls  at  the  house  of  M.  Despreaux,  the 
fashionable  dancing-master,  which  were  attended  by 
all  his  pupils  and  by  many  others  besides. 

'  A  savage  district  in  Corsica. 


CHAPTER   VI 

1800 

OUT  of  the  strife,  disorder.s  and  confusion  that  for 
some  years  had  prevailed  in  France  a  new 
calamit}-  had  arisen.  A  band  of  robbers  called 
chauffeurs,  whose  crimes  made  them  the  terror  of  the 
whole  countr)-,  now  infested  not  only  the  provinces, 
but  Paris  itself.  Numbers  of  those  atrocious 
characters  produced,  or  at  any  rate  brought  forward 
by  recent  events,  flocked  to  join  them,  and  they  now 
formed  a  large  and  powerful  bod}' of  daring  miscreants, 
from  whose  depredations  and  cruelties  nobody  seemed 
to  be  safe. 

In  country  places  the  villages  and  farms  paid  them 
blackmail,  or  if  any  refused  to  do  so,  they  were  \ery 
likely  to  be  surprised  some  night,  the  house  set  on 
fire,  and  the  inhabitants  murdered  in  their  beds. 
They  were  never  caught,  for  no  one  dared  to  give 
evidence  against  them,  nor  even  to  refuse  to  shelter 
them  from  justice. 

In  different  parts  of  Paris  and  the  suburbs  horrible 
murders  kept  taking  place,  now  and  then  even  of  a 
whole  family,  and  still  the  perpetrators  were  never 
discovered.  Even  the  sentinels  or  watchmen  posted 
about  the  city  did  not  seem  to  do  much  good. 


96  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

There  was  one  a  short  distance  from  Madame 
Permon's  door,  in  spite  of  whose  presence  one  night, 
at  about  half-past  twelve,  while  several  people  who 
had  been  spending  the  evening  with  her  were  still 
there,  cries  for  help  were  suddenly  heard  in  the  street 
and  some  of  the  servants  waiting  downstairs  for  their 
masters,  rushing  out,  found  a  man  robbed  and  nearly 
murdered,  whom  they  were  only  just  in  time  to  save, 
very  suspiciously  near  the  watchman  in  question. 

Just  after  this,  Madame  Permon,  having  accident- 
ally struck  her  head  against  the  marble  of  her 
chimney-piece,  had  a  dreadful  abscess,  which  for 
many  days  caused  her  frightful  suffering,  and  left  her 
so  weak  and  ill  as  to  require  great  care  and  perfect 
quiet. 

Albert  was  at  this  time  living  with  his  mother,  and 
was  occupied  in  the  affairs  of  some  friends  of  his  who 
were  starting  a  bank  in  Paris.  They  lived  at  Toulon, 
Bordeaux,  Narbonne,  and  Nimes,  and  had  placed  the 
direction  of  their  business  in  Paris  in  his  hands.  One 
evening  he  came  in  with  a  commissionaire  usually 
employed  in  the  house,  carrying  a  heavy  iron-bound 
box  or  safe,  and  early  the  next  morning  he  went  out, 
taking  the  same  man  and  returning  accompanied  by 
him,  this  time  laden  with  a  box  still  heavier  than 
before. 

"  Let  him  have  a  glass  of  wine,  Laura,"  said  he. 
"Here,  drink,  my  good  fellow;  you  are  very  much 
overheated,  take  care." 

"  Dame  ! "  exclaimed  the  porter.  "  I  am  accus- 
tomed to  heavy  loads.  Pm  not  a  fine  muscadin  like 
you  ;  you  couldn't  carry  a  quarter  of  what  I  carried 
just  now." 


i8oo]  AT  NAPOI. FOX'S   COURT  «,7 

Albert  laughed,  anci  goinjr  closer  to  the  man,  whom 
he  knew  and  trusted,  he  said  significantly,  but  most 
imprudentl)',  "  I  carried  more  than  double." 

The  man  started  and  exclaimed,  "Impossible! 
Ah  !  yes,  yes,  I  understand." 

He  turned  to  go  downstairs,  but  came  back  after  a 
few  steps  and  said — 

"  Am  I  to  go  and  order  )-our  cabriolet,  citoyoi 
Permon  ?  " 

He  asked  this  question  because  Albert  was  in  the 
habit  of  going  into  the  country  every  dccadi,  and 
staying  away  for  at  least  one  night.  He  replied  in 
the  affirmative,  and  the  commissionaire  went  as  usual 
to  order  one  from  the  livery  stables,  as  Albert  alwaj-s 
on  those  occasions  left  their  own  horses  for  his  mother. 
Then  he  went  to  his  mother's  room  to  wish  her  good- 
bye, l^ut  he  found  her  weak  and  low-spirited,  and 
when  she  heard  he  was  going  away  she  looked  ready 
to  cry,  and  said  she  had  scarcely  seen  him  for  two 
days.  Without  telling  her,  he  sent  away  the  cabriolet 
and  went  back  to  her  room,  where  he  sat  with  her 
most  of  the  day  playing  the  harp  to  her  and  amusing 
her.  Later  on  several  friends  came  in,  and  she  was 
so  cheered  up,  that  when  she  went  to  bed,  as  she 
drank  the  bowl  of  milk  she  always  took  the  last 
thing,  she  remarked  that  she  felt  much  better,  and 
should  sleep  well. 

Albert  went  up  to  his  rooms  on  the  second  floor, 
the  servants  went  to  bed  on  the  third  floor,  where  they 
all  slept.  The  ground  floor  consisted  only  of  the 
porter's  lodge,  a  subterranean  kitchen,  store-rooms 
and  offices.  The  first  floor  had  two  doors  opening  on 
to  the  landing  of  the  staircase.    One  led  into  an  ante- 


9^  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [iSoo 

room,  through  which  people  passed  into  the  dining- 
room,  then  the  drawing-room,  the  boudoir,  Madame 
Permon's  bedroom,  Laura's  study,  her  bedroom  and 
another  room  in  which  she  also  'kept  some  of  her 
books,  her  globes,  &c.  All  these  rooms  opened  out 
of  each  other,  and  the  last  named  had  also  a  door 
leading  on  to  the  landing,  opposite  the  first  named. 

Laura  sat  by  her  mother  till  she  fell  asleep,  and 
then  retired  to  her  own  room  and  took  a  book,  mean- 
ing to  sit  up  for  a  time  in  order  to  be  sure  that  the 
invalid  wanted  nothing  more.  But  Madame  Permon 
slept  on  tranquilly  ;  no  sound  broke  the  silence  but 
the  measured  tread  of  the  sentinel  by  the  Capucine 
church,  his  monotonous  "  Qui  vivc  .?"  or  now  and  then 
a  carriage  driving  rapidly  by.  Little  by  little  even 
this  sound  ceased.  Laura  looked  at  the  clock  ;  it  was 
a  quarter  to  one.  She  got  up  with  a  yawn,  intending 
to  go  to  bed,  but  suddenly  became  conscious  of  feel- 
ing very  hungry.  Having  sat  up  at  night  so  much 
lately,  she  had  required  supper,  and  had  given  orders 
that  some  fruit  or  comfitures  should  always  be  put  in 
her  room  the  last  thing.  It  was  evident,  however, 
that  they  had  this  time  been  forgotten,  but  as  she 
looked  round  the  room,  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  key  of 
the  opposite  door  leading  into  the  dining-room,  which 
was  always  left  there  to  enable  her  to  pass  that  way 
in  the  morning  to  practise  on  the  piano  without  dis- 
turbing Madame  Permon  by  going  through  her  room. 

Laura  remembered  that  there  was  always  something 
to  be  found  in  a  cupboard  in  the  dining-room,  so, 
taking  her  candle,  she  opened  her  door,  crossed  the 
landing,  and  unlocking  the  door  opposite,  went  in, 
and  as  she  expected,  found  some  bread  and  preserved 


i8oo]  AT   .\'AI>OLKO.\'S   COl'k'T  (><) 

strawberries.  Ilavinc^  put  these  on  the  table  and  sat 
clown  to  eat  them,  she  remembered  that  iier  mother 
might  awake,  call  her,  and  be  frightened  if  she  did  not 
answer.  So  taking  all  the  things  back  into  her  own 
room,  she  returned  to  fetch  the  sugar,  which  she  had 
forgotten  ;  and  then  locking  and  bolting  the  doors, 
she  sat  down  again  with  great  satisfaction  to  her 
strawberries. 

Presently  she  heard  a  noise  at  the  bottom  of  the 
house,  and  it  immediately  struck  her  that  the  servants 
must  be  sitting  up  playing  cards  in  the  kitchen, 
contrary  to  her  express  order  that  all  of  them, 
cook,  coachman,  footman,  and  lady's  maid,  should  be 
in  bed  and  the  lights  put  out  by  midnight. 

She  listened,  and  in  a  few  moments  heard  stealthy 
steps  upon  the  staircase. 

"Just  as  I  thought  !"  muttered  Laura  to  herself. 
"  Well,  I  shall  catch  them  in  the  act."  And  creeping 
up  to  the  door  leading  on  to  the  staircase,  she  noise- 
lessly drew  back  one  bolt,  waiting  to  draw  the  other 
until  the  whole  procession  should  be  close  to  it. 

Just  then  a  sudden  sound  told  her  that  someone 
had  stumbled  over  Madame  Permon's  bath,  which  was 
always  put  out  on  the  landing  at  night. 

Irritated  at  the  noise,  which  might  awaken  her 
mother,  Laura  drew  back  the  other  bolt,  and  was  just 
turning  the  handle  to  open  the  door  when  all  at  once 
it  flashed  into  her  mind  that  the  servants  knew  where 
the  bath  was,  and  consequently  were  not  likely  to  fall 
over  it,  and  that  even  if  they  did  they  would  have 
laughed,  whereas  no  sound  of  the  kind  was  heard. 

But  if  not  the  servants,  then  who,  or  what  ? — and 
softly,  with  trembling  hands,  she  slid  back  the  bolts. 


lOo  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

and  waited,  almost  paralysed  with  terror,  listening 
while  the  steps  passed  her  door  and  began  to  go  up 
the  staircase  to  the  second  floor.  Being  of  wood, 
it  creaked  beneath  the  heavy  footsteps,  which  she  was 
now  quite  certain  were  not  those  of  the  servants, 
unless,  indeed,  Antonio,  Albert's  Venetian  valet,  who 
knew  that  the  money  was  in  his  master's  rooms,  was 
acting  as  their  guide. 

But  the  noise  ceased,  and  for  nearly  ten  minutes 
Laura  heard  nothing.  She  began  to  wonder  whether 
her  fears  had  got  the  better  of  her  reason,  and 
the  steps  were  after  all  only  those  of  the  servants. 
Persuading  herself  that  this  might  really  be  the  case, 
she  sat  down,  and  was  just  finishing  her  strawberries 
when  she  heard  the  steps  coming  down  again.  This 
time  there  was  no  mistake.  What  was  to  be  done  ? 
The  history  of  one  murder  after  another  committed 
by  the  chauffeurs  came  into  her  mind.  Only  the  week 
before,  near  Orleans,  they  had  killed  two  persons  who 
had  given  the  alarm,  and  at  Croissy,  where  they  had 
murdered  several  people,  they  had  placed  a  sentinel 
in  the  courtyard  with  orders  to  shoot  the  first  person 
who  tried  to  get  out. 

If  she  were  to  give  the  alarm,  Albert,  hearing 
her  voice,  would  open  his  door,  come  out,  and  be 
murdered  at  once. 

Laura  stood  close  to  the  door  listening.  The 
chauffeurs  came  quietly  down,  avoiding  the  bath,  and 
stopped  on  the  landing  between  her  door  and  that  of 
the  dining-room.  Two  of  them  sat  down  upon  a 
step,  and  by  putting  her  ear  close  to  the  door,  which 
was  so  thin  that  it  could  have  been  broken  open, 
she  heard  a  good  deal  of  what  they  said,  and  soon 


i8oo]  AT  XAPOLEON'S   COURT  loi 

made  out  that  Antonio  was  not  amon^j  them,  but 
that  they  supposed  Albert  to  be  absent,  and  knew 
that  there  were  from  70,cx)0  to  75,(X)0  francs  in  the 
house,  which  only  the  porter  could  have  told  them. 
They  went  on  swearing  at  the  Le  Dru  locks  on 
Albert's  door,  which  had  prevented  their  opening 
it,  and  said  that  it  was  getting  towards  dawn  (it  was 
July) ;  that  it  was  not  worth  while  to  go  into  Madame 
Permon's  room,  and  that  that  door  belonged  to  la 
petite.  After  a  moment's  silence  she  caught  the 
words,  "  Well,  to-morrow  !"  and  heard  some  pieces  of 
iron  cautiously  put  down  on  the  step.  Then  she  dis- 
covered that  they  were  going  to  force  the  door  of  the 
dining-room  opposite  to  get  the  plate,  and  in  a 
moment,  seeing  that  this  would  open  her  mother's 
room  to  them,  she  rushed  through  the  inner  door 
of  her  own  and  stood  by  her  bed,  calling  gently 
to  her. 

"  Mofi  Dieu  !  what  is  the  matter.^"  exclaimed 
Madame  Permon,  waking  up  and  seeing  her  daughter 
half-undressed,  with  a  candle  in  her  hand  and  a 
terror-stricken  face. 

"  The  house  is  full  of  robbers  !  "  answered  Laura. 
Madame  Permon  sat  up,  seized  hold  of  the  three  bells 
by  her  bed  and  rang  them  till  one  broke. 

"In  God's  name  keep  quiet  !  "  cried  Laura,  catching 
hold  of  her  ;  "  you  will  kill  Albert !  " 

"  How?  What?  WHiere?"  cried  Madame  Permon, 
while  the  sound  of  the  chauffeurs  running  downstairs 
was  immediately  heard,  and  it  was  evident  that 
whilst  two  of  them  were  sitting  by  Laura's  door  the 
rest  were  occupied  in  trying  to  force  the  locks  of 
Albert's  room.     Madame   Permon  continued  to  ring 


I02  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

and  call  until  the  whole  house  was  disturbed.  Albert 
opened  his  door,  in  which  a  burglar's  tool  was  stick- 
ing ;  the  servants  rushed  downstairs ;  and  Laura 
threw  open  the  window  of  her  study  just  as  the  two  last 
of  the  band  jumped  over  the  wall  which  separated 
the  courtyard  from  a  large  woodyard,  in  which 
they  had  hidden  themselves  among  the  narrow  paths 
made  by  the  piled-up  faggots.  By  means  of  these 
faggots  they  had  got  over  the  wall  into  the  Permons' 
.  courtyard,  and  once  there  it  was  all  easy  enough.  The 
door  of  the  woodyard  was  open  when  Albert,  with 
some  of  the  police,  went  in  to  wake  up  the  caretaker 
and  his  famih',  all  of  whom  seemed  to  be  fast  asleep, 
and  suspiciously  ignorant  of  what  had  happened. 

A  whole  heap  of  burglar's  tools  were  found  by 
Laura's  door,  and  one  of  the  police  brought  in  a 
faggot  stained  with  blood,  one  of  the  villains  having 
fallen  and  hurt  himself  in  his  flight.  None  of  them 
were  taken. 

Madame  Permon  suffered  less  from  the  effects  of 
this  adventure  than  might  have  been  expected,  but  it 
was  a  long  time  before  Laura  could  get  over  the  terror 
she  had  gone  through,  especialh'  when  she  reflected 
that  she  had  narrowly  escaped  meeting  the  cJiauffeurs 
on  the  landing  between  the  dining-room  and  her  bed- 
room, or  throwing  open  her  door  and  appearing  in  the 
midst  of  them  ;  and  that  while  she  was  getting  her 
strawberries  and  sugar  in  the  dining-room  they  were 
actually  in  the  house. 

An  attack  of  fever  was  the  immediate  consequence 
of  all  this,  and  when  she  and  Madame  Permon  were 
well  enough  they  went  to  Dieppe  for  a  change,  but  for 
a  considerable  time  she  had  a  horror  of  crossing  the 


i.Soo]  AT   WlPOf.KOX'S   COURT  103 

landing   from    her    room    to  the  dining-room,  or  of 
sleeping  in   the   dark. 

But  although  she  had  borne  this  terrible  shock 
so  much  better  than  her  children  had  anticipated, 
the  health  of  Madame  Permon,  always  extremely 
fragile,  and  severely  tried  by  the  many  sorrows  and 
vicissitudes  of  her  past  life,  had  now  become  seriously 
impaired.  She  frequently  suffered  great  pain,  and 
spent  most  of  the  day  lying  on  a  sofa  or  in  an  arm- 
chair, going  out  very  little. 

Albert  and  Laura  devoted  themselves  entirely  to 
her,  and  her  unfailing  spirits,  love  of  music,  and  the 
interest  she  took  in  ever\'thing  that  went  on,  made 
her  easy  to  amuse. 

Every  evening  her  sa/o// wa.s  as  full  and  as  pleasant 
as  ever;  some  of  her  intimate  friends  came  almost 
invariably,  and  the  time  was  passed  either  in  con- 
versation, music  or  dancing. 

Laura  was  now  nearly  sixteen,  and  Madame 
Permon  feeling  that  her  own  life  was  uncertain, 
and  that  her  daughter  had  no  fortune,  was  anxious  to 
establish  her  suitably  as*  soon  as  possible. 

Two  marriages  were  proposed  to  her,  one  of  which 
came  to  nothing  for  want  of  sufficient  fortune.  The 
other  suggested  husband,  though  his  position  and 
income  were  satisfactory,  was  so  much  older  than 
Laura,  that  Madame  de  Caseaux  and  other  friends 
remonstrated,  declaring  he  was  old  enough  to  be 
her  grandfather. 

Like  most  well  brought  up  French  girls  of  the  time, 
Laura  was  quite  prepared  to  marry  as  her  mother 
directed,  but  to  this  particular  man  she  took  such  a 
violent  dislike  that  although  it  never  occurred  to  her 


104  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

that  she  could  refuse  to  marry  him  if  her  mother 
insisted  upon  it,  she  declared  that  it  would  make  her 
miserable  for  life,  and  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of 
Madame  Permon,  who  yielded  to  her  entreaties  and 
broke  off  the  negotiations  with  reluctance. 

Just  then  General  Junot  returned  to  Paris.  He 
was  a  good-looking  man  of  eight-and-twenty  and  a 
great  favourite  of  Napoleon,  who  was  now  First 
Consul,  and  who  had  made  him  Commandant  of 
Paris,  desiring  him  to  look  out  for  a  wife  without 
delay,  and  adding  that  he  must  be  sure  to  choose  a 
rich  one. 

Junot  replied  that  she  must  also  be  one  who 
pleased  him,  and  proceeded  to  make  inquiries  on 
the  subject,  whilst  he  occupied  himself  in  arranging  a 
/wfe/  and  establishment  on  a  sumptuous  scale. 

One  day  he  happened  to  be  at  the  house  of  a  lady 
who  was  a  friend  of  the  Permons.  To  her  he 
confided  his  wishes. 

"  Have  you  been  to  see  Madame  Permon  since  you 
came  back  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No  ;  and  I  reproach  myself  every  day  on  that 
account.     Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"Because  I  think  her  daughter  would  exactly  suit 
you." 

"  Her  daughter  !  But  she  was  only  a  child  when 
I  went  to  Egypt." 

"  She  is  not  a  child  now,  but  a  young  girl.  She  is 
sixteen.  I  am  very  anxious  to  arrange  a  marriage 
for  her  myself  at  this  moment,  only  her  mother  is 
so  obstinate  about  one  she  has  set  her  heart  upon 
in  which  there  is  not  common  sense,  for  the  man 
is    old    enough    to    be    her    father.     Now   mine   is   a 


i8oo]  AT  XAl'OLEOX'S   COCRT  105 

very  nice  )'ouni^  fellow  and  one  of  the  first  names 
in  France." 

"Then  in  that  case  what  can  I  do?"  said  Junot. 
"You  tell  ine  of  a  woman  who  has  twenty  suitors. 
I  don't  like  so  much  competition.  Besides,  Ma- 
demoiselle Loulou,  as  I  believe  she  is  called,  will 
be  sure  to  be  a  pretentious,  spoilt  little  person, 
insupportable.  No,  no !  /<•  z'o/(s  /niisc  Ics  iiiaiNsy 
And  he  rose  and  took  his  leave. 

But  the  next  visit  he  paid  was  to  a  Madame 
Ilamelin,  also  a  friend  of  the  Permons,  who  im- 
mediately began  the  subject. 

"Ah!"  she  said,  "there  is  a  young  person  I 
should  like  you  to  marry — but  she  is  engaged,  it 
is  no  use  thinking  of  it." 

"  Then  if  she  is  going  to  be  married  cannot  you 
tell  me  her  name  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  ino)i  Dii'H,  yes !  You  knew  her  when  she 
was  a  child.     It  is  Mademoiselle  Permon." 

Junot  laughed,  and  went  on  to  ask  several  questions 
about  the  young  girl,  which  ended  in  his  promising 
to  go  with  Madame  Ilamelin  to  Madame  Permon's 
one  evening.  But  meanwhile  he  consulted  another 
friend  of  Madame  Permon,  who  told  him  that  she 
was  bent  upon  carrying  out  the  marriage  which 
was  not  then  broken  off;  and  feeling  certain,  from 
what  he  knew  of  her,  that  she  would  persist  in  having 
her  own  way,  he  made  an  excuse  and  did  not  go 
to  her  house    until  the  following   September. 

On  the  2 1st  of  that  month  about  a  dozen 
people  were  in  Madame  Permon's  snloti,  talking, 
laughing,  and  acting  charades,  when  suddenly  the 
door   opened    and    General    Junot    was    announced. 


io6  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

There  was  a  dead  silence,  for  Junot,  who  had 
expected  to  meet  two  or  three  people  he  knew  there, 
had  mistaken  the  day  and  found  nobody  who  did 
not  belong  strictly  and  entirely  to  the  faubourg  St. 
Germain  set. 

For  a  general  of  the  Republic  to  appear  un- 
expectedly in  a  circle  of  anigrcs,  most  of  whom 
had  only  returned  within  six  months,  was  undoubt- 
edly awkward,  and  for  the  moment  he  looked  em- 
barrassed, but  Madame  Permon,  perceiving  the 
situation,  received  him  with  such  grace  and  courtesy 
and  so  many  friendly  reproaches  for  his  delay  in 
coming  that  he  was  at  once  at  his  ease,  and  before 
he  left  ventured  to  invite  her  to  go  the  next  day 
to  the  Hotel  de  Salm  to  see  the  procession  pass 
from  the  Musee  des  Augustins  to  the  Invalides 
with  the  body  of  Turenne,  which  had  been  saved 
when  the  tombs  of  Saint  Denis  were  desecrated 
by  the  brutal  mob  in  the  Revolution,  hidden  for  a 
time  in  the  Jardin  dcs  Plaiites,  and  was  now  to  be 
buried  again  with  military  honours. 

Junot,  as  Commandant  of  Paris,  was  the  director 
of  that  ceremony,  and  was  not  unwilling  that  his  dis- 
tinguished position  should  be  recognised  by  Madame 
Permon  and  her  daughter,  to  whom  he  paid  marked 
attention.  They  found  a  private  room  reserved 
for  them  at  the  Hotel  Salm,  to  which  he  had  sent 
chairs,  cushions,  a  reclining  chair  for  Madame 
Permon,  and  his  German  valet  to  await  her  orders. 

P"or  the  next  ten  days  he  never  missed  an  evening 
at  Madame  Permon's,  where  he  sat  by  her  side  talking 
to  her  or  to  any  of  his  acquaintance  he  met  there, 
but  never    speaking   to    Laura  or   approaching   the 


i8oo]  AT  XAI'O  LEON'S   CO  CRT  107 

group  of  young  girls  among  whom  she  was.  On 
the  1st  of  October  Madame  Permon  gave  a  dance, 
at  which  the  De  Caseaux  were  among  the  first  to 
arrive,  and  Mademoiselle  de  Caseaux,  taking  Laura 
apart,  complained  that  she  had  treated  her  with 
a  want  of  confidence  in  not  telling  her  of  her 
approaching  marriage. 

Laura  at  once  feared  that  the  marriage  she 
so  dreaded  was  again  in  question,  and  her  face  of 
consternation  made  her  friend  exclaim  — 

"Isn't  it  true,  then?  Are  you  not  engaged  to 
General   Junot?" 

"  General  Junot  ! "  cried  Laura,  much  relieved. 
"  Arc  you  out  of  your  senses?  \Vh\-,  I  hardly  know 
him.  And  is  it  likely  that  he  would  want  to  marry 
a  girl  with  no  fortune  wlien  he  is  the  favourite  of  the 
First  Consul  and  one  of  the  first  partis  in  Paris  ? 
When  did  you  hear  that  wonderful  news?" 

"  M.  d'Aubusson  de  la  P'euillade  told  us  to-day 
at  dinner,"  replied  the  young  girl,  whose  mother 
just  then  approached  and  repeated  her  daughter's 
remark. 

"  It  must  be  a  trick  to  torment  mc  !  "  exclaimed 
Laura.  "  And  you,  Madame,  who  are  always  so 
kind,  how  can  you  believe  any  such  thing?  Is 
not  Laura  my  best  friend  and  if  there  were  any 
secret  of  that  sort  would  not  she  be  the  first  to 
know  it  ?  " 

Having  convinced  and  embraced  her  friends, 
Laura  begged  them  to  say  nothing  to  Madame 
Permon,  who  would  be  sure  to  be  angry  and  vent 
her  indignation  upon  some  one,  most  likel}-  upon 
M.  d'Aubusson,  who   had  just  come  into  the  room. 


io8 


A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY 


[1800 


General    Junot    presently    arrived,    apparently    in 
high  spirits,  and  made  his  way  to  Madame   Permon, 


JLNur,   GOVERNOK   Ol'  PARIS  AND   UIX   DABRAXTK^ 


by   whose  side   he    remained,   talking  and  laughing 
with  her  and  paying  her  great  attention. 

"  Dicii     ))ic     pardonnc ! "       exclaimed    Laura    de 


i8oo]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COCh'T  109 

Caseaux  ;  "one  woultl  think  M.  d'Aiibiisson  had 
made  a  mistake  and  General  Junot  was  i;oin<^ 
to  marry  your  mother." 

"  Well,  it  would  not  be  suprisint^."  replied  Laura 
Permon,  "for  my  mother  is  charming  ;  and  see  how 
pretty  she  looks  this  eveninj^." 

Madame  Permon,  in  fact,  looked  lovel>-  ;  her  illness 
had  not  \'et  injured  her  beauty,  to  which  nothing 
could  be  more  becoming  than  the  st)']e  of  dress  she 
had  latterly  adopted  :  long,  flowing  peignoirs  of  the 
finest  Indian  muslin,  trimmed  with  Malines  or  point 
lace,  with  a  headdress  of  the  same  lace. 

M.  de  Trenis,  who  was  celebrated  for  his  dancing, 
came  up  and  asked  Laura  to  dance  a  gavotte  with 
him,  and  when  she  refused  appealed  to  Madame 
Permon,  who  desired  her  to  do  so.  Can  one  imagine 
in  these  days  a  man  with  whom  a  girl  had  refused 
to  dance  asking  her  mother  to  make  her,  and  that 
mother  complying  with  his  request  ? 

The  evening  was  as  amusing  and  successful  as 
Madame  Permon's  parties  always  were.  When  everv' 
one  was  gone,  and  Laura  found  herself  alone  in 
her  room,  she  began  to  think  that  perhaps  she  had 
better  tell  her  mother  what  was  being  said ;  so 
the  next  morning  she  related  to  her  all  the  remarks 
of  Madame  de  Caseaux  and  her  daughter,  and  as 
she  expected  Madame  Permon  put  herself  into  a 
state  of  excitement  and  irritation,  declaring  that 
such  a  report  would  do  Laura  harm,  and  must  have 
been  set  about  by  somebody  who  had  a  spite  against 
them. 

"  And  then  if  General  Junot  marries  Madame 
Leclerc,  which  I  hear  is  very  likely,  people  will  say 


no  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [i^^oo 

that  his  marriage  with  my  daughter  has  been  broken 
off!" 

"  Really,  mother,"  said  Albert,  "  you  are  not  reason- 
able.    Just  for  a  few  words  carelessly  spoken " 

"It  is  all  very  well,  "  replied  she;  "but  do  you 
suppose  that  just  at  the  time  when  your  sister 
has  obstinately  refused  one  good  marriage  and 
circumstances  have  prevented  another,  it  is  likely 
to  be  very  pleasant  for  me  to  hear  her  name  con- 
nected with  that  of  a  man  she  can  never  marry 
at  all  ?     No,  no  ;  it  is  most  disagreeable." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  said  Albert.  "  I  did 
not  think  of  that.     What  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  Oh,  won  Dien  !  it's  very  simple.  I  shall  tell 
Junot  how  it  is,  and  ask  him  to  leave  off  coming 
here." 

Albert  smiled,  hesitated,  and  turning  to  Laura 
told  her  that  her  drawing-master  had  come  and 
was  waiting  for  her.  Laura  ran  away  to  her  lesson, 
forgetting  all  about  the  question  under  discussion, 
and  Albert,  when  she  was  gone,  told  his  mother  that 
it  would  be  a  pity  to  act  as  she  proposed. 

"  Eh  !     Why  not,  if  it  suits  me  ?  "  was  the  answer. 

"  You  must  do  as  you  choose,  mother  ;  but  I  can't 
change  my  opinion." 

"  At  any  rate  give  me  a  reason." 

"Well,  if  you  really  want  to  know,  I  think  Junot 
is  in  love  with  my  sister." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  " 

Albert  said  nothing,  but  walked  slowly  up  and 
down  the  room. 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ? "  continued  his 
mother. 


iHoo]  .If   \Al>OI.i:0.\"S   COrRT  111 

"  Has  he  said  anytliii^Lj^  to  you  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word,  but  what  I  have  noticed  is  quite 
enough  for  me.  However,  I  may  be  mistaken,  liut 
I  will  go  this  morning  and  see  Madame  Hamelin  ;  if 
there  is  anything  in  it  she  will  know  and  she  will  tell 
me  the  truth.  I  shall  ask  her  in  the  interest  of 
Laurette,  and  she  is  very  fond  of  her." 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  Madame  Permon,  "  such  happiness  is 
not  reserved  for  me  before  I  die.  I  would  rather 
have  Junot  for  my  son-in-law  than  any  man  I  know. 
Poor  Laurette  !     No,  no,  my  son,  you  are  mistaken." 

At  that  moment  a  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door. 
Madame  Permon,  who  was  still  in  bed,  was  about  to 
ring  and  say  she  could  not  see  any  one,  when  Albert 
looked  out  of  the  window  and  exclaimed,  "  It  is 
Junot ! " 

"Junot  !  "  cried  Madame  Permon.  "  What  can  he 
want  at  this  time?  Yes,  yes  !  let  him  come  up,"  as 
her  maid  came  to  ask  if  she  would  see  the  General. 
"  And  you  stay  here,  Albert." 

Junot  very  soon  made  his  apjjearance,  and  sitting 
down  by  Madame  Permon  explained  that  he  had 
come  to  ask  her  consent  and  Albert's  to  Laura 
becoming  his  wife.  After  their  consent  had  been 
given  and  they  had  all  embraced  each  other  and 
regained  their  composure,  he  asked,  as  a  special  and 
unusual  favour,  to  be  allowed  to  speak  to  Laura 
himself,  and  hear  her  decision  from  her  own   lips. 

Madame  Permon  exclaimed  that  such  a  thing  was 
unheard  of,  but  on  his  saying  that  he  only  wanted  to 
ask  her  in  the  presence  of  her  mother  and  brother, 
Madame  Permon  gave  her  permission,  and  Albert 
was  sent  to  fetch  Laura.     When  Junot  repeated  his 


112  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

offer,  entreating  her  to  say  whether  she  would  marry 
liim  of  her  own  free  will,  she  was  so  astonished, 
confused,  and  frightened  that  she  became  crimson, 
sat  speechless  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  jumped 
up  and  ran  upstairs,  where  Albert  followed  and  found 
her  hidden  in  an  attic,  crying. 

Junot  meanwhile  was  filled  with  consternation, 
reproached  himself  vehemently  for  distressing  her, 
and  stamped  his  foot  on  the  ground  with  an 
exclamation  more  suited  to  a  barrack-room  than 
to  the  society  in  which  he  now  was.  Madame 
Permon  remarked  that  she  had  told  him  his  plan 
was  absurd  and  that  she  would  advise  him  not  to  use 
such  expressions  before  Laura,  who  would  not  like 
them  at  all  ;  and  Albert,  returning  from  upstairs, 
announced  that  his  sister  was  perfectly  willing  to 
accept  him. 

Madame  Permon's  next  question  was  how  he  had 
gained  the  consent  of  the  First  Consul,  to  which  he 
replied  that  he  had  not  asked  for  it. 

"  What  !  "  exclaimed  Madame  Permon.  "  He 
does  not  know  it  ?  And  you  come  and  ask  for  my 
daughter  in  marriage.  Allow  me  to  say,  my  dear 
General,  that  your  conduct  is  very  thoughtless." 

"May  I  ask  in  what  I  am  to  blame,  Madame?" 

"  How  can  you  ask  ?  Don't  you  know  the  cool- 
ness and  misunderstanding  which  have  succeeded 
the  friendship  that  existed  between  the  First  Consul 
and  me  ?  Do  you  suppose  he  will  agree  to  my 
daughter  becoming  your  wife,  more  especially  as 
she  has  no  fortune?  And  what  shall  you  do  now  if 
he  refuses  his  consent  ?  " 

"  I  shall  do  without  it.     I  am  not  a  child,  and  in 


i8cx)]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COirRT  113 

the  most  important  event  in  my  life  I  shall  consult 
my  own  happiness,  not  petty  quarrels  which  don't 
concern  me." 

"  You  say  you  are  not  a  child,"  cried  Madame 
Permon  ;  "  and  yet  you  reason  as  if  you  were  six 
years  old.  Can  you  break  with  your  friend  and 
protector  because  >'ou  want  to  make  what  he  will 
call  a  bad  marriage  ? — that  is  to  say,  a  marriage  with- 
out fortune,  for  this  is  the  reason  he  will  give  you  ; 
he  is  not  likely  to  tell  you  it  is  because  he  does  not 
like  me.  And  what  will  you  do  when  he  gives  you 
the  choice  between  my  daughter  and  himself?" 

"  He  will  never  do  so,"  replied  Junot,  "and  if  he 
could  so  far  forget  my  services  and  my  attachment,  I 
should  still  be  a  faithful  son  of  France,  who  would 
never  repulse  me.     And  I  am  a  general." 

"But  do  you  think  we  could  accept  such  a 
sacrifice?  Although  my  daughter  is  only  sixteen, 
you  cannot  have  so  misjudged  her  as  to  imagine 
she  would  so  abuse  her  influence  over  you." 

"  My  dear  General,"  interposed  Albert,  "  it  seems 
to  me  that  you  have  been  rather  hasty  in  this  matter, 
but  I  think  it  can  easily  be  arranged.  I  do  not 
agree  with  my  mother  that  the  First  Consul  is  likely 
to  interfere  in  a  question  of  this  kind." 

Junot  looked  at  his  watch,  seized  his  hat,  and  said, 
"  I  will  go  to  the  Tuileries.  The  F'irst  Consul  is  not 
yet  at  the  Council.  I  will  speak  to  him  and  be  back 
in  an  hour." 

He  ran  downstairs,  sprang  into  his  carriage,  drove 
to  the  Tuileries,  and  meeting  Duroc,  inquired  for  the 
First  Consul.  Shortly  afterwards  he  was  shown  into 
his  study. 

9 


114  '4    LEADER   OE  SOCIETY  [1800 

"  Mon  Genera/,"  he  began,  "  you  said  you  wished  to 
see  me  married.  Well,  the  thing  is  done — I  am 
going  to  marry." 

"  Ah  !  ah  !  And  have  you,  by  chance,  just 
carried  off  your  wife  ?  You  look  very  much 
excited." 

"  No,  ;/ion  General " 

"  And  who  are  you  going  to  marry  }  " 

"  Somebody  you  knew  as  a  child  and  liked  very 
much,  of  whom  every  one  speaks  well,  and  with 
whom  I  am  madly  in  love.  It  is  Mademoiselle 
Permon." 

Napoleon  started  up  and  caught  Junot  by  the  arm. 
"  Who  did  you  say  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  The  daughter  of  Madame  Permon,  the  child  you 
have  held  so  often  on  your  knees,  iiion  General!' 

"It  is  not  possible  !  Loulou  cannot  be  old  enough 
to  be  married.     Why,  how  old  is  she  ?  " 

"  Sixteen  next  month." 

"  But  it  is  a  very  bad  marriage  for  you  ;  she  has 
no  money.  And  besides — how  can  you  wish  to 
be  son-in-law  to  Madame  de  Permon  ?  Don't  you 
know  that,  woman  though  she  is,  you  will  have  to  do 
what  she  pleases  ?     Cest  une  riiele  teteT 

"  Permit  me  to  observe,  mon  General,  that  I  do  not 
marry  my  mother-in-law.  And  then  I  think — — " 
and  he  hesitated. 

"  Well,  apres,  what  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  think,  mon  General,  that  the  disputes  between 
you  and  Madame  Permon  have  perhaps  given  you 
a  prejudice  against  her.  I  know  she  is  surrounded 
by  many  old  friends,  and  I  see  the  love  her  children 
have  for  her." 


i8oo]  AT  \'ArOLEO\''S  COURT  115 

Gradually  Napoleon  yielded  to  the  representations 
of  Junot,  and  ended  by  saying  that  he  would  give 
him  a  hundred  thousand  francs  for  the  do^  of  his 
fiancee  and  forty  thousand  for  the  corbeille,  and  the 
affair  was  settled. 

The  mother,  brothers,  and  sisters  of  the  l^'irst 
Consul  were  delighted  at  the  marriage,  but  for  some 
reason  it  did  not  please  Josephine,  and  the  friends  of 
Madame  Permon  urged  her  to  push  on  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  wedding  and  let  it  take  place,  as  Junot 
desired,  before  Laura's  sixteenth  birthday,  lest  by 
any  intrigues  it  might  be  broken  off  Madame 
Permon  scouted  the  idea  of  any  such  danger  and 
declared  that  considerations  of  this  kind  were 
beneath  her  own  and  her  daughter's  dignity,  but  the 
precarious  state  of  her  own  health  made  her  anxious 
to  get  the  wedding  o\'er,  and  she  i)romised  Junot  that 
it   should   be  on  the  twentieth  of  that  same  month. 

When  Laura  was  told  this,  she  objected  vehcmentlv', 
and  declared  with  tears  that  she  did  not  want  to  be 
married  till  after  Christmas.  Albert  tried  to  comfort 
her  and  induce  her  to  be  married  on  the  day  fixed, 
and  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  who  had  just  come  to 
dinner,  added  his  persuasions  to  the  rest,  assuring 
her  that  she  must  be  a  good  child  and  be  married 
when  her  mother  wished,  and  that  now  she  was 
engaged  the  sooner  the  wedding  took  place  the 
better,  as  nothing  was  less  convctiable  than  a  young 
fiancee  who  went  all  the  winter  from  one  fete  to 
another  and  was  neither  dame  nor  demoiselle. 

By  which  arguments  Laura  was  so  far  convinced 
that  she  consented  to  the  thirtieth  of  the  month 
being  decided   upon. 


ii6  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

Many  of  Madame  Permon's  friends  of  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain  strongly  disapproved  of 
Laura's  engagement,  saying  that  although  her  father 
had  been  bourgeois,  her  mother  was  not,  and  that  she 
would  have  done  much  better  to  marry  her  daughter 
in  her  own  set. 

Madame  Permon  paid  no  attention  to  what  they 
said,  but  hurried  on  the  preparations  for  the  wedding. 
She  and  Junot  vied  with  each  other  in  the  splendour 
of  the  trousseau  and  corbeille. 

Junot's  family  had  come  to  Paris  for  the  marriage. 
They  were  people  entirely  different  from  Laura  and 
her  mother  in  education,  habits,  and  social  position  ; 
but  his  mother  was  a  woman  so  kind,  gentle,  and 
unselfish,  that  Laura  very  soon  became  extremely 
fond  of  her.  She  got  on  very  well  also  with  his 
brother  and  sisters,  and  managed  to  keep  on  good 
terms  with  his  father,  an  ill-tempered,  disagreeable 
old  country  lawyer,  who  must  have  been  a  con- 
siderable trial.  In  fact,  she  was  extremely  good  to 
them  all,  to  the  great  relief  of  Junot,  who  had  looked 
forward  with  much  uneasiness  to  their  meeting. 

At  the  signing  of  the  contract  Laura  heard  with 
astonishment  her  mother's  lawyer,  when  he  read 
the  document  aloud,  announce  that  she  had  a  dot 
of  60,000  francs,  derived  from  money  left  by  her 
father,  12,000  francs  for  her  trousseau,  and  50,000 
francs  from  M.  Lequien  de  Bois-Cressy,  an  old 
friend  of  her  father's,  who  hoped  to  become  the 
second  husband  of  Madame  I^ermon  should  she  be 
restored  to  health,  and  settled  this  sum  on  Laura 
as  his  future  step-daughter. 

Knowing    perfectly    well  that    her  father  had    left 


i8oo]  AT  \'AI'0/.EO\''S   COrRT  117 

nothing  for  her  to  inherit,  but  that  her  education 
and  all  the  expenses  of  her  mother  and  herself 
had  been  jjaid  b}'  Albert,  she  asked  as  soon  as  she 
could  speak  to  him  alone,  what  was  the  meaning 
of  it. 

"  Say  nothing  about  it,"  replied  he.  "  Vou  know 
that  my  mother  and  you  are  all  I  have  to  care 
for  in  the  world,  and  your  happiness  is  my  first 
consideration.  The  thing  is  simple  enough,  dear 
child.  You  are  m.aking  a  great  marriage,  greater 
than  w^e  could  have  hoped  for.  Junot  insists  on 
coDimunautc  de  bicus  between  you.  It  would  not 
do  for  you  to  bring  nothing  into  such  an  arrange- 
ment, it  would  be  out  of  the  question  ;  therefore 
I  am  giving  you  some  money  I  have  to  dispose  of 
If  ever  we  find  that  sum  my  father  placed  in 
England,  )'Ou  can  rcpa}-  me  ;  if  not,  it  is  }-ours — 
I  make  you  a  present  of  it ;  but  as  it  would  not 
be  proper  that  you  should  receive  your  dot  as  a 
present,  I  made  Tricard  say  that  it  came  from  our 
father." 

Next  day,  according  to  the  usual  custom,  Junot 
and  Albert  took  the  contract  to  be  signed  at  the 
Tuileries.  Napoleon  spoke  very  kindly  of  Laura 
and  her  mother,  and  ordered  it  to  be  read  to  him. 
When  it  was  finished  he  took  Albert  b)'  the  arm, 
drew  him  on  one  side,  and  said — 

"  Fermon,  I  remember  quite  well  that  \-our  father 
left  nothing  at  all.  At  the  time  of  his  death  I  used 
to  be  at  \-our  mother's  every  da\-,  and  )'ou  know  . 
doubtless,  that  I  then  wanted  to  marry  }'ou  to  my 
sister,  Madame  Leclerc,  and  betroth  Mademoiselle 
XyOuloq  to  that  mnuvais  sii^'et,  Jerome."     He  did  not 


ii8  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

mention  the  other  marriage  he  wished  to  make  on  that 
occasion,  "  Well,"  he  continued,  "  Madame  Permon 
told  me  that  her  husband  left  no  fortune  whatever, 
so  what  is  the  meaning  of  all  this?" 

Albert  explained,  begging  that  the  First  Consul 
would  not  mention  the  matter. 

"  You  are  a  good  fellow,  Permon,  you  are  a  good 
fellow,"  said  he ;  "  and  you  let  yourself  be  forgotten, 
but  I  shall  look  after  you.  Why  have  I  never  seen 
you  at  the  Tuileries  since  I  have  been  there?  How- 
ever, your  brother-in-law  will  now  remind  us  of 
each    other." 

Not  long  afterwards  Albert  received  the  appoint- 
ment of  Commissary-General  of  Police,  of  which  posts 
there  were  only  three  in  France. 

Two  days  before  Laura's  wedding  a  circumstance 
took  place  which  very  nearly  broke  it  off. 

As  Commandant  of  Paris,  Junot  had  the  right  to 
be  married  at  any  niairie  he  pleased,  and  as  he  had 
a  friend,  M.  Duquesney,  who  was  Mayor  of  the  7th 
ai'Tondisseinent,  he  asked  Madame  Permon  whether 
she  thought  Laura  would  mind  the  ceremony  being 
performed  there. 

Madame  Permon  said  she  did  not  think  so,  but 
would  send  for  Laura,  who  replied  that  her  mother 
must  settle  all  that,  the  only  objection  she  saw 
being  that  it  was  rather  far  to  go,  adding — 

"  If  that  iiiairie  were  as  near  as  our  church,  I 
should  not  be  afraid  of  tiring  my  mother."  So 
saying,  she  left  the  room  without  noticing  Junot's 
look  of  astonishment.  When  she  was  gone  he 
turned  to  her  mother  and  asked  if  she  expected  the 
marriage  to  take  place  in  a  church. 


i8oo]  AT  XAPOLF.OX'S  COURT  lU) 

"In  a  church?"  cried  Madame  Permon,  starting 
from  her  chair.  "  And  where  else  do  you  suppose 
she  intends  to  be  married  ?  Before  your  friend  witli 
the  scarf?  M)-  dear  cliild,  j'ou  must  ha\e  lost  )'our 
senses.  Did  \'ou  imas^ine  for  an  instant  that  not 
onl\-  m}'  daughter,  but  her  brother  or  I,  would  allow 
a  Republican  marriage?  Such  a  thing  is  absolutel}- 
against  our  principles,  and  I  can  tell  you  that  Laura 
will  not  thank  you  if  you  suggest  it  to  her." 

Junot  walked  up  and  down  the  room  much 
disturbed.  "  Will  you  allow  me  to  speak  to 
Mademoiselle  Loulou  about  this  alone?"  he  asked. 
"  On  the  terms  we  now  are  there  could  be  no 
impropriety." 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
replied  Madame  Permon.  "  As  long  as  you  are  not 
Laura's  husband  you  are  a  stranger  to  her,  and 
what  you  are  going  to  tell  her  won't  make  you  very 
good  friends  either,  l^esides,  what  secret  can  there  be 
about  it?     Why  should  you  not  wish  me  to  hear?" 

"  Because  it  must  be  discussed  with  calmness,"  he 
replied.  "  But  I  can  speak  to  her  in  the  drawing- 
room,  with  the  door  into  your  room  open." 

Laura  received  his  proposition  with  astonished 
indignation.  To  his  representations  that  he  could 
not  appear,  as  Commandant  of  Paris,  in  uniform 
amongst  the  crowd  that  would  collect  round  the 
church  to  see  what  was  still  so  remarkable  a 
spectacle,  Laura  replied  that  she  saw  no  reason 
why  he  should  object  to  be  seen  accomplishing  a 
religious  duty  which  nobody  would  think  of  neglect- 
ing, unless  it  were  the  Turks,  whose  example  she 
hoped  he  did  not  propose  to  follow. 


I20  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIErV  [1800 

Junot  tried  to  persuade  her  that  the  rehgious 
ceremony  was  unnecessary,  and  might  cause  him 
serious  results,  for  while  to  her  it  was  only  a  fancy, 
to  him  it  meant  a  public  profession  of  religion. 
Laura  answered  with  spirit  and  decision  that  if 
it  were  so,  she  would  ask  him  in  what  religion  he 
had  been  brought  up,  and  why,  having  been  baptized, 
confirmed,  received  the  Communion  and  confessed 
in  the  Catholic  faith,  when  it  was  a  question  of 
another  sacrament,  that  of  marriage,  he  should 
suddenly  wish  to  act  like  an  infidel  ;  that  she 
was  too  young  to  eriter  into  controversy,  but  that 
of  one  thing  he  might  rest  assured,  that  their 
marriage  would  either  be  celebrated  in  church  or 
not  at  all  ;  and  that  she  declined  to  discuss  the 
matter  any  further ;  saying  which,  she  got  up  and 
left  the  room,  observing  as  she  went  out  that  she 
was  sorry  Junot  could  have  thought  her  capable  of 
accepting  such  a  proposal. 

Any  one  who  has  had  experience  of  family 
routs  (and  who  has  not?)  can  easily  imagine  the 
general  consternation,  in  the  midst  of  which  a 
servant  announced  that  Mademoiselle  Olive  and 
Mademoiselle  de  Beuvry  had  come  ^^'ith  the 
tr07isseau  and  corbcillc. 

"Junot,  Junot!  will  you  hold  your  tongue?"  cried 
Madame  Permon,  as  Junot  stamped  his  foot  with 
an  oath  ;  and  Albert  went  to  Laura's  room,  where 
he  found  her  much  distressed,  but  declaring  that 
about  this  matter  she  would  decide  for  herself  It 
appeared  that  all  this  commotion  had  been  caused 
by  the  First  Consul,  who,  having  a  few  da}'s  before 
narrowly   escaped    assassination    by   a    fanatic,  who 


iHoo]  AT   XAPOI.F.OXS   COrRT  121 

accused  him  of  attemi)tinf^  to  destroy  the  repubh'can 
institutions,  had  privately  requested  Junot  not  to 
be  married  in  a  church  by  day,  lest  that  [iublic 
profession  of  religion  should  confirm  the  suspicions 
of  its  enemies.  He  had  added  that  "  in  case  the 
family  insisted  on  a  religious  marriage  it  could  take 
place  at  night,  and  Junot,  who  regarded  the  First 
Consul  as  a  god  upon  earth,  had  not  only  obeyed, 
but  exceeded  his  instructions  by  never  mentioning 
the  alternative  at  all. 

To  this  arrangement  Madame  Permon  and  Albert 
saw  no  objection,  and  Laura  was  persuaded  to  agree 
to  it,  though  she  did  not  like  it  because  it  reminded 
her  of  the  Terror,  when  }-oung  people  could  onl)- 
receive  the  priest's  blessing  on  their  marriage  in 
haste  and  secrec}'  at  the  peril  of  their  li\-es  and 
his ;  also  because  she  said  they  could  not  then 
have  the  usual  Mass  at  the  marriage,  but  this  Junot 
arranged  satisfactorily,  saying  that  if  the  wedding 
took  place  at  midnight  the  Mass  could  be  celebrated 
after  it.  And  with  many  apologies  for  having  vexed 
her,  Junot  departed,  and  Laura  went  to  look  at  her 
trousseau  and  corbcille. 

The  marriage  took  place  as  agreed  upon.  Laura 
wore  a  long  dress  of  India  muslin,  high,  with  long 
sleeves,  richly  embroidered  and  trimmed  with  lace, 
and  on  her  head  a  large  lace  veil  wh'ch  fell  all  around 
her,  fastened  with  orange  flowers.  She  was  very 
dark  with  masses  of  splendid  dark  hair,  more  attrac- 
tive at  that  time  than  regularly  pretty.' 

Junot  was  accompanied  to  the  iiiairic  by  his  own 
famil)'  and  two  or  three  of  his  brother  officers ;  Laura 
■  She  .soon  developed  into  a  beaviiiful  woman. 


122  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

by  her  brother,  her  uncle,  Prince  Demetrius  Com- 
nenus,  who  had  emigrated  and  came  from  Munich 
on  purpose,  and  by  two  or  three  old  friends  of  her 
parents. 

Crowds  assembled  to  see  the  marriage  of  the  Com- 
mandant of  Paris,  and  the  ''Dames  dc  la  Halle"  of  evil 
renown,  deputed  four  of  their  number  to  offer  enor- 
mous bouquets  to  the  bride.  They  were  admitted  into 
the  salon,  where  they  presented  the  bouquets  to 
Laura  and  embraced  her  ;  and  after  the  midnight 
marriage  and  Mass,  she  was  conducted  with  music  to 
the  splendid  hotel  which  was  to  be  her  new  home. 


CHAPTER  VII 
1800 

JUNOT  had,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of 
Madame  Permon,  insisted  on  giving  a  dinner 
the  day  after  his  wedding  to  several  of  his 
brother  officers.  Madame  Permon  was  horrified  at 
an  idea  so  contrary  to  the  usages  of  society,  and 
assured  him  that  it  was  Hke  a  carpenter's  apprentice 
celebrating  his  wedding  festivities  at  La  Courtille.  As 
he  would  not  listen,  she,  as  a  last  resource,  proposed 
to  invite  the  guests  to  her  own  house  instead. 
"  But  will  they  come,  as  the)'  don't  know  me  ?  " 
"Without  the  least  doubt,"  replied  Junot. 
Invitations  were  therefore  sent  to  Duroc,  Bessieres, 
Lannes,  Eugene  de  Beauharnais,  Rapp,  and  several 
others,  renowned  generals  of  Napoleon,  but,  with  the 
exception  of  PLugene  de  l^eauharnais,  much  more 
suited  to  a  camp  than  a  civilised  drawing-room. 
Besides  these  were  invited  numbers  of  Madame  Per- 
mon'sold  friends,  who  for  the  first  time  were  seated 
at  dinner  with  the  l^uonaparte  family,  nearly  all  of 
whom  were  present  except  Napoleon  and  Lucien ; 
and  afterwards  the  crowd  of  strangely  assorted  guests, 
looking  askance  at  each  other  as  they  walked  about 

•23 


124  ^    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

the  rooms,  where  they  assuredly  had  never  met 
before,  composed  altogether  the  most  extraordinary 
and  interesting  assembly  in  which  Laura  had  ever  yet 
found  herself  For  to  her  they  were  intensely  inte- 
resting, all  these  young  generals  with  famous  reputa- 
tions and  dreadful  manners,  whose  names  she  had  so 
often  heard,  whom  she  had  so  much  desired  to  see,  and 
upon  whom  her  mother's  friends  of  \hQ  faubourg  St. 
Gerniaiu  looked  with  scarcely  concealed  disdain.  It 
was  bad  enough,  they  thought, to  meet  the  Buonapartes, 
but  these  rough,  unmannerly  fellows,  with  their  loud 
voices,  boisterous  laughter  and  awkward  movements ! 
That  Panoria  Comnenus  should  have  married  Charles 
Permon  had  been — well — marrying  out  of  her  own 
set.  Still,  M.  Permon  was  a  thorough  gentleman,  a 
scholar,  and  a  man  of  the  world,  and  his  friends  were 
cultivated  people  of  good  position. 

To  marry  Laurette  to  one  of  these  unpolished 
parvetius  was  quite  another  matter.  However,  he  was 
very  rich,  a  gallant  soldier,  and  as  favourite  of  the 
First  Consul  had  a  great  career  before  him  ;  and  he 
was  Comrnandant  of  Paris,  And  for  the  sake  of  old 
friendship  they  came  to  this  party  given  in  Laurette's 
honour,  but  they  treated  the  intruders  with  a  polite- 
ness too  exaggerated  to  be  complimentary,  and 
evidently  clue  only  to  their  deference  for  their  hostess, 
while  from  time  to  time  a  significant  glance,  a 
mocking  smile,  or  a  contemptuous  whisper  was  rapidly 
exchanged  as  some  absurd  speech  or  outrageous 
breach  of  good  manners  attracted  their  attention. 

Madame  liacciochi,  who  went  in  for  being  literary 
and  assumed  the  character  of  a  feniine  if  esprit,  had 
taken  it  into  her  he^id  to  institute  a  sort  of  club  or 


i8oo]  AT  X  A  POL  FOX'S   COl'k'T  125 

society  of  women  of  cultivated  tastes,  all  of  whom 
should  wear  the  same  costume,  which  she  devised  and 
wore  herself  this  eveninf^.  It  proved,  however,  to  be 
more  a  warning  than  an  example.  It  consisted  of  a 
huge  muslin  turban  embroidered  with  gold  and  a 
wreath  of  laurel  over  that,  a  long  sleeveless  tunic,  and 
an  immense  shawl  worn  like  a  cloak.  It  was  a 
toilette,  as  Laura  remarked,  partly  resembling  a 
Greek,  a  Roman,  a  Jewess -anything,  in  fact,  but 
a  well-dressed  Frenchwoman,  and   she  exclaimed— 

"  To  see  Madame  Bacciochi  dressed  up  in  such  a 
manner  does  not  surprise  me,  for  I  am  accustomed  to 
it  ;  but  to  hear  her  say  that  that  is  a  costume  for 
Christian  women  who  fear  God  to  wear  is  out- 
rageous !  " 

One  of  the  few  members  of  the  faubourg  St. 
Gennaiu  who  seemed  prepared  to  enjoy  himself  that 
night  was  Monsieur  de  Caulaincourt,  who  came 
up  to  Laura  with  all  the  affection  of  an  old  friend 
and  the  courtesy  of  a  well-bred  Frenchman  to  offer 
his  congratulations,  after  which,  turning  away  into  the 
crowd,  he  met  Rapp,  a  stout,  awkward-looking  man 
about  the  age  of  Junot,  whom  he  had  often  seen  at 
the  Tuileries,  and  who  cried  out — 

"  Why,  what  the  devil  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"■Mafoi!"  he  answered,"!  have  more  right  than 
you  to  ask  that  question,  considering  that  I  have 
known  Madame  Permon  for  five-and -twenty  years 
and  never  seen  you  in  her  house  before.  How  do 
you  come  to  be  dining  here  to-day?"  And  turning 
away,  he  went  up  to  Laura  and  asked  her  whether 
that  fellow  had  called  on  them. 

"  No." 


126  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

"  Impossible." 

"  I  assure  you  it  is  true." 

"  But  at  least  he  sent  his  cards  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Oh !  come,  my  dear  child,  that  is  not  possible. 
You  have  been  too  busy  with  your  trousseau  to  see 
him,  for  it  is  incredible  that  a  man  who  is  received  to 
dine  at  the  table  should  take  his  place  at  that  of 
une  feuinie  comme  il  fant  as  if  it  were  a  table  d'hote 
without  first  presenting  himself  to  her  and " 

Just  then  Rapp  came  up  without  being  heard  and 
cried  out  behind  him — 

"  What  are  you  saying  there,  dear  father?  Come, 
leave  the  place  open  for  me.  At  wedding  fetes  old 
people  do  penance."  And  seizing  him  in  his  arms,  he 
carried  him  some  paces  off. 

M.  de  Caulaincourt  shook  him  off  with  a  vigour 
very  unexpected  from  an  old  man,  and  observ- 
ing coldly,  '•  Colonel  !  you  and  I  are  neither  young 
enough  nor  old  enough  for  such  games,"  he  turned 
to  Laura  and  offered  her  his  arm,  saying,  "  Will 
you  come  and  see  what  is  going  on  in  the  next 
room  ?  " 

Junot  found  them  sitting  together,  Laura  in  despair 
at  the  result  of  their  first  attempt  to  amalgamate  old 
and  new,  trying  to  console  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  who 
indignantly  declared  that  Rapp  should  give  him  satis- 
faction. 

Junot,  with  many  apologies,  assured  him  that  Rapp 
did  not  know  how  to  behave  in  society,  but  was  the 
best  fellow  in  the  world,  and  meant  no  harm. 

"  I  will  speak  to  him  at  once,  and  you  will  see." 

"  No,    no,    on     no  account.      I   don't  want  you  U) 


i8oo]  AT  XAPOLEONS   COrh'T  127 

beg  for  excuses  for  me.  Colonel  Rapp  has  insulted 
me  ;  he  must  understand  and  apologise,  or  else " 

Hut  Junot  hurried  away,  and  presently  returned 
with  Rapp,  who  was  ready  to  throw  himself  on  his 
knees  before  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  and  full  of  apolo- 
gies to  him  for  his  rudeness  and  to  Laura,  to  whom 
he  said  Junot  told  him  he  had  been  wanting  in 
respect  in  acting  so  in  her  j^resence. 

Touched  by  his  repentant  simplicity,  M.  de  Cau- 
laincourt shook  hands  and  declared  they  would  be 
friends  ;  but  Madame  Permon  was  not  so  forgiving 
She  could  not  endure  people  with  such  manners,  and 
when  she  heard  the  story  she  was  so  angry  that  she 
could  scarcely  be  induced  to  receive  Rapp  with 
civility  as  long  as  she  lived. 

Laura  looked  with  very  different  eyes  upon  her 
husband's  friends.  She  had  never  known  the  old, 
stately,  well-bred  society  so  dear  to  her  mother,  and 
though  a  devout  Catholic  and  sincerely  attached  to 
her  mother's  old  friends,  she  was  in  most  respects 
a  child  of  the  Revolution,  or  at  any  rate  of  the  new 
order  of  things  which  had  arisen  out  of  it. 

Without  any  sympathy  for  the  Republic,  whose 
bloodthirsty  tyrants  had  been  the  terror  of  her  child- 
hood, she  threw  her  whole  heart  and  soul  into  the 
glories  and  excitements  of  the  France  of  Napoleon. 

The  rough,  unmannerly  young  soldiers,  with  their 
loud  laughter,  awkward  movements,  and  conversation 
besprinkled  with  oaths,  were  heroes  of  romance  to 
her.  The  tricolor,  held  accursed  by  those  who  loved 
the  lilies  and  the  white  banner,  was  to  her  the  flag 
that  led  the  French  armies  to  victory,  and  the  First 
Consul,  so   rapidly  advancing  towards  empire,    had 


128  A   LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

changed  from  the  sullen,  discontented,  poverty- 
stricken  lad  whom  she  played  with  and  laughed 
at  in  the  days  when  he  used  to  be  invited  out  of 
kindness  to  her  parents'  house,  into  a  sort  of  demi- 
god whom  it  was  a  crime  to  oppose,  whose  faults 
must  be  excused,  his  virtues  magnified,  and  from 
whom  the  slightest  notice  was  honour  and  dis- 
tinction. 

A  few  days  after  the  party  just  described,  M.  de 
Caulaincourt  was  dining  with  Laura  and  her  hus- 
band, when  he  noticed  General  Lannes,  a  great  friend 
of  Junot,  who  used  to  say  that  he  was  the  bravest 
man  in  the  French  army. 

"  That  is  the  one  of  all  your  new  friends  whose 
appearance  I  like  best,"  he  said  to  Laura.  "  He 
is  a  very  soldierlike  fellow,  and  there  is  something 
taking  about  him.    Will  you  introduce  me  ?  " 

Laura  took  his  arm,  went  with  him  to  the  other 
end  of  the  room,  where  Lannes  was  talking  to  Junot, 
and  introduced  him  as  a  distinguished  officer,  where- 
upon Lannes  seized  his  hand,  shook  it  violently, 
exclaiming,  "  Shake  hands,  old  fellow  !  I  like  /es 
ancicns  ;  there  is  always  something  to  be  learnt  from 
them  !  In  what  regiment  did  you  serve?  Were 
you  biped  or  quadruped?  Ah!  the  devil!"  as  the 
astonished  old  gentleman  was  taken  with  a  violent 
fit  of  coughing. 

Junot  said  something  in  an  undertone  to  Lannes, 
who  continued,  his  sentences  still  full  of  oaths — 

"  Ah  !  you  are  the  father  of  those  two  brave  young 
fellows,  one  of  them  a  colonel  of  carabineers  in  spite 
of  his  youth !  You  must  be  a  brave  man  yourself. 
You  have  brought  them  up  for  their  country  instead 


i8oo]  AT  XAI'OLKOXS   COCRT  129 

of  selling  them  to  foreigners   like  so  many  others. 
You  are  an  honest  man,  and  I  must  embrace  you." 

So  saying  he  threw  his  arms  round  M.  de  Caulain- 
court  and  hugged  him. 

"  Well,"  said  Laura  as  they  walked  away,  "  what 
do  you  think  of  him  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  a  nice  fellow — very  nice  ;  but  somehow  I 
expected  rather  a  different  sort  of  man.  For  instance, 
he  swears  like  a  renegade— it  makes  one  shudder  to 
hear  him.  But  all  that  does  not  prevent  his  being  a 
brave  man  and  a  good  soldier." 

"  But  how  could  you  expect  Lannes  to  be  any- 
thing more  than  a  brave  man  and  a  good  soldier  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  it  was  his  cursed  powdered  head 
that  deceived  me.  I  thought  any  one  who  had  his 
hair  dressed  in  the  old  way  would  have  the  old 
manners  too." 

"  What  !  "  cried  Laura  ;  "  do  you  mean  to  say  you 
judged  Lannes  by  his  powdered  head?  It's  very 
lucky  you  didn't  meet  Augereau  ;  }ou  would  have 
made  a  much  greater  mistake  with  him." 

Just  then  a  tall  man  passed,  and  bowed  in  a  much 
more  gentlemanlike  manner. 

"Who  is  that?"  asked  M.  de  Caulaincourt.  "He 
is  powdered,  you  see." 

"That's  Colonel  Bessieres.  Shall  1  present  him  to 
you,  vton  petit  papa  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  he  replied.  "  I  have  had  enough  for 
this  time." 

In  vain  Laura  explained  that  Bessieres  never  swore 
or  used  any  barrack-room  language  ;  her  old  friend 
would  not  hear  of  any  more  of  such  introductions 
that  evening.     Shortly  afterwards  he  met  Augereau. 

10 


I30  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

and  recollecting  what  Laura  had  said  about  him,  was 
induced  by  curiosity  to  make  his  acquaintance,  when 
the  volley  of  oaths  and  foul  language  that  poured 
from  his  lips  so  astonished  and  disgusted  him  that 
he  almost  took  a  dislike  to  the  powdered  hair  and 
queues  by  which  he  had  been  so  misled. 


CHAPTER   VIII 
1800 

THE  presentation  of  Laura,  on  her  marriage,  to 
the  First  Consul  and  his  wife,  had  been 
arranged  to  take  place  after  the  opera. 

There  was  at  this  time  little  or  no  ceremonial 
attending  such  occasions,  for  although  Buonaparte 
was  advancing  with  rapid  steps  towards  supreme 
power,  he  had  not  as  yet  anything  that  could  be 
called  a  court,  and  Josephine  had  not  even  the 
dames  de  cotiipagnie,  who  were  shortly  afterwards 
added  to  her  household  and  before  long  developed 
into  dames  du  palais. 

Laura  felt  rather  nervous  as  the\'  drove  up  to  the 
Tuileries,  for  she  knew  she  would  meet  none  of  her 
old  friends  there,  the  only  one  possible,  M.  de  Caulain- 
court,  being  obliged  to  stay  at  home  on  account  of 
his  daughter's  illness.  As  they  went  up  the  steps 
they  met  Duroc  and   Rapp. 

"  How  late  you  are !  "  cried  Duroc.  "  \\h\-,  it's 
nearly  eleven  o'clock." 

"  Ah!  "  added  Rapp,  "Madame  Junot  is  a 
mert'eilleuse,^  and  is  going  to  make  a  dancl\-  of  our 
good  Junot  ?  "     And  he  roared  with  laughter. 

■  This  word  cannot  be  IransUuet)  into  English  ;  it  means  a  female 
liandy. 


132  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

"  Madame  Buonaparte  told  me  to  come  after  the 
opera,"  said  Junot. 

"  Oh,  well,  that's  a  different  thing,"  said  Duroc  ; 
"  if  Madame  Buonaparte  named  the  time " 

Just  then  the  folding  doors  of  Madame  Buona- 
parte's room  opened  and  Eugene  de  Beauharnais 
ran  down  the  staircase.  His  mother  had  sent 
him  because,  hearing  a  carriage  stop,  and  seeing 
nobody  announced,  she  feared  they  might  have 
been  told  that  they  were  too  late.  They  went 
upstairs  together,  and  Eugene,  seeing  that  Laura 
was  nervous,  said  in  a  reassuring  voice,  "  Don't 
be  afraid  ;  my  mother  and  sister  are  so  kind."  His 
words  at  once  restored  her  composure,  for  with  all 
her  new  sympathies,  Laura  was  Madame  Permon's 
true  daughter,  and  her  early  friends  and  associates 
were  so  far  different  from  those  she  was  likely  to  find 
in  the  sa/o?/  of  Josephine  and  Hortense  that  the  idea 
of  being  afraid  of  either  of  them  shocked  her,  and 
throwing  off  the  shyness,  for  which  she  suddenly  felt 
a  sort  of  contempt,  she  entered  the  great  yellow 
drawing-room  in  which  the  stately  magnificence  of 
the  court  of  the  Bourbons  was  being  so  strangely 
travestied.  The  saloon,  which  was  of  immense  size, 
was  half  dark,  except  just  round  the  fireplace,  where 
masses  of  candles  were  surrounded  with  gauze  to 
soften  the  light. 

On  one  side  of  the  fire  sat  Josephine,  doing  some 
embroidery,  on  the  other  her  daughter  Hortense,  a 
slight,  graceful  girl  with  blue  eyes,  fair,  curly  hair,  and 
a  gentle,  rather  languid  manner.  The  First  Consul 
was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  as  they 
entered  he  watched  Laura  with  critical  looks.     Jose- 


i8oo]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  133 

phine  rose,  and  coming  forward  to  meet  her,  took  her 
hands  and  kissed  her,  saying  that  she  had  been  too 
long  a  friend  of  Junot  not  to  be  also  a  friend  of  his 
wife,  especiaih'  the  one  he  had  chosen. 


EIUKNE    L)E    HEAIHAKNAIS,   VICEROY   OK   ITALY,   SOX   OK  JOSEPHINE. 

"Oh!  oh!  Josephine!"  cried  Napoleon,  "you 
go  too  fast.  How  do  you  know  that  this  little 
rascal  is  worth  loving?     Well,  Mademoiselle  Loulou, 


134  ^    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

you  see  I  don't  forget  the  names  of  my  old  friends. 
Haven't  you  a  word  for  me?  "  And  taking  her  hand, 
he  drew  her  nearer  to  him  and  looked  earnestly  at  her. 

"  General,"  said  Laura,  smiling,  "  it  is  not  for  me  to 
speak  first." 

"  Well  answered,  very  well.  Ah !  her  mother's 
spirit.     By  the  way,  how  is  Madame  Permon  ? " 

"  111,  General  ;  she  suffers  a  great  deal.  For  two 
years  her  health  has  been  so  bad  that  it  makes  us 
very  uneasy." 

"  Really  !  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry  indeed.  Give  her 
my  kindest  regards.  She  has  a  deuced  hasty  temper, 
but  a  kind  heart  and  a  generous  spirit." 

Laura  withdrew  her  hand,  which  Napoleon  had 
been  holding  all  this  time,  and  went  and  sat  down 
by  Josephine.  The  conversation  then  became  general. 
Duroc  came  in  and  began  to  talk  to  her,  and  on  that 
evening  began  a  friendship  between  them  which  was 
never  broken. 

Some  one  spoke  of  Count  Louis  de  Cobentzel,  who 
was  expected  at  Paris,  and  Josephine  remarked  that 
she  had  been  told  that  he  was  wonderfully  like 
Mirabeau. 

"Who  told  you  that?"  asked  Napoleon,  turning 
round. 

"  I  don't  exactly  remember,  but  I  think  it  was 
Karras." 

"  And  where  did  Barras  see  M.  de  Cobentzel  ? 
Mirabeau  !  He  was  ugly,  and  M.  de  Cobentzel  is  ugly, 
that's  all.  E/i  /  pardieu  !  you  knew  him,  Junot. 
You  were  with  me  at  the  time  of  our  famous  treaty, 
and  Duroc  too.  But  neither  of  you  ever  saw 
Mirabeau.     He     was     a     scoundrel,     but    a     clever 


i8oo]  AT   \'AFOLEO\'S   COURT  135 

scoundrel  !  He  alone  did  more  harm  to  the  former 
masters  of  this  house  than  all  the  States-General 
put  together.     But  he  was  a  scoundrel." 

And  the  First  Consul  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  mutter- 
ing, "  He  was  a  bad  man,  too  tarnished  to  be  a 
tribune  of  the  people.  Not  that  there  are  not  some  in 
my  tribunal,"  he  continued,  smiling,  "  whose  conduct 
is  just  as  bad,  and  who  don't  possess  his  talents.  As 
to  Count  Louis  de  Cobentzel "  But,  probably  re- 
membering that  as  ambassador  of  another  State  he 
was  not  a  subject  for  present  criticism,  he  broke  off 
his  sentence,  took  another  pinch  of  snuff,  and  turning 
to  Laura,  said — 

"  I  hope  we  shall  often  see  you  here,  Madame 
Junot.  I  intend  to  form  a  numerous  family  around 
me,  composed  of  my  generals  and  their  wives,  who 
will  be  the  friends  of  my  wife  and  Hortense,  as  their 
husbands  are  mine.  Will  that  please  you  ?  I  warn 
you  that  \'ou  will  be  mistaken  if  \'ou  expect  to  find 
all  your  fine  friends  of  the  faubourg  St.  Gennain 
here.  I  don't  like  them  ;  they  are  m}-  enemies, 
and  they  show  it  by  abusing  me.  But,  as  your 
mother  lives  amongst  them,  tell  them  I  am  not  afraid 
of  them.     I  fear  them  no  more  than  the  rest." 

"General,"  replied  Laura,  with  spirit,  "allow  me  to 
decline  to  do  what  is  in  no  way  a  woman's  business, 
and  certainly  not  that  of  Junot's  wife.  And  permit  me 
to  carry  no  message  from  \-ou  to  m\-  friends  but  one 
of  peace  and  union,  which  is  all  they  desire." 

Madame  Permon  had  made  up  her  mind  to  give  a 
ball  a  week  or  two  after  her  daughter's  marriage  in 
honour  ofthatevent.  Accordingly,  one  evening  when 
Laura  and  Junot,  who  had  been  married  four  or  five 


136  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

days,  were  dining  with  her,  she  proposed  that  they 
should  make  out  the  list  of  invitations  together. 
Society  in  those  days  was  smaller,  simpler,  more 
intimate  and  more  friendly  than  now,  and  Madame 
Permon,  like  all  her  friends  who  lived  in  small  houses 
or  small  apartments,  when  they  gave  a  large  evening 
party  or  ball,  threw  open  all  or  nearly  all  their  rooms, 
including  bedrooms,  which  they  arranged  for  people 
to  sit  or  walk  about  in. 

To  this  ball  were  invited  a  hundred  and  ten  people, 
of  whom  seventy  were  men. 

"  I  want  it  to  be  the  prettiest  ball  that  has  been 
given  for  some  time,"  said  Madame  Permon,  as  she 
settled  herself  on  the  sofa  after  dinner.  "  The  house 
is  very  small,  but  it  shall  be  like  a  basket  of  flowers. 
Now,  Madame  Laurette,  take  your  old  place  at  the 
writing-table  and  let  us  make  the  list  together,  for  I 
must  invite  all  your  husband's  old  friends." 

Junot  got  up  and  kissed  her  hand. 

"  But  certainly,"  she  said,  "  your  friends  are  mine 
now.  Only  some  of  them  swear  too  much,  Laurette 
tells  me  that  when  yo-u  are  angry  it  is  rather  the  same 
thing.  You  really  must  correct  yourself  of  that 
horrid  trick  ;  it  is  odious  in  people  who  belong  to 
society." 

Junot  laughed  and  held  up  his  finger.  Laura 
blushed. 

"  What !  because  she  told  me  that  you  swore  ?  But 
I  hope  that  because  she  is  called  Madame  Junot  she 
will  not  leave  off  confiding  in  me  and  telling  me  all 
her  joys  and  sorrows.  She  has  not  been  long  enough 
acquainted  with  your  ear  for  it  to  replace  mine.  And 
what  ear  can  listen  as  well  as  a  mother's.     Besides, 


i8oo]  AT  XAPOLEOXS  COURT  137 

she  told  me  that  you  loved  her  very  much.  But 
come,  it  is  late,  and  we  have  not  had  the  loto  ;  let 
us  make  haste  and  write." 

Now  the  loto  which  Madame  Permon  insisted  on 
playing  every  evening  was  the  d/'/e  noire  of  Albert, 
Laurette,  and  Junot,  who  concealed  their  dislike  of  it 
from  their  mother  and  always  played  unless  there 
were  enough  people  present  to  do  without  them,  in 
which  case,  when  the  detested  round  table  and  green 
silk  bag  were  brought  in,  Albert  and  Junot  would  go 
out  to  the  theatre  or  elsewhere,  the  latter  saying  that 
he  would  come  back  and  fetch  Laura  later. 

"  I  will  write  the  list,"  said  Junot  hastil}-,  when  he 
heard  the  word  "  loto."  And  he  sat  down  at  the 
writing-table.  Having  written  the  names  of  all  the 
women,  beginning  with  Madame  Buonaparte  and 
Mademoiselle  de  Beauharnais,  Junot  waited  to  put 
down  those  of  the  men. 

"  The  First  Consul  of  the  French  Republic,  one  and 
indivisible,"  began  Madame  Permon.  "  That  is  how 
you  say  it,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  The  First  Consul !  "  cried  they  all. 

"  Why,  yes  !  the  First  Consul.  What  is  there 
surprising  in  that  ?  Do  you  think  I  am  Corsican 
enough  for  a  vendetta?  In  the  first  place,  it  annoys 
me  to  dislike  people,  and  then " 

"And  then,"  said  Junot,  laughing,  "you  think 
perhaps  you  were  more  to  blame  than  he." 

"  No,  no  I  that's  another  matter.  It  was  he  who  was 
in  the  wrong,  a  thousand  times  wrong.  How  can  you 
say  so  when  you  saw  the  whole  thing  ?  l^ut  I  have 
been  thinking  that  now  Laurette  will  be  so  much 
mixed  up  with  him  perhaps  the  sort  of  quarrel  that 


138  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

there  is  between  us  may  have  disagreeable  conse- 
quences for  her.  But  it  is  not  enough  to  invite  him  ; 
do  you  think  he  will  come  ?  " 

"  I  am  certain  he  will,"  replied  Junot.  "  Ask 
Laurette  how  he  spoke  of  you  when  he  heard  of 
your  illness." 

"  And  so  you  told  him  I  was  ill,"  said  Madame 
Permon,  who  had  heard  the  story  ten  times  at  least. 
"  So  he  thinks  I  am  dying,  and  will  expect  to  see  a 
spectre  ? "  And  looking  at  the  great  mirror  before 
her  sofa,  she  smoothed  down  the  dark  curls  of  her 
hair.     She  was  still  beautiful. 

"  Well,  mamma,  tell  me  what  time  will  suit  you 
best  and  I  will  come  and  fetch  you,"  said  Junot. 

"  Fetch  me  ?     To  go  where  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  the  Tuileries,  of  course,  to  invite  the  First 
Consul  and  Madame  Buonaparte  !  " 

"  My  dear  Junot,"  said  Madame  Permon,  looking 
at  him  seriously,  "you  must  be  quite,  entirely 
mad." 

"  I  see  nothing  that  is  not  quite  reasonable  and 
sensible  in  what  I  say,  mamma,"  answered  Junot. 

"  And  I  say  that  you  are  mad.  Do  you  suppose  I 
shall  go  myself  and  ask  General  Buonaparte  to  come 
to  my  house  again  after  having  told  him  never  to 
do  so  ?  " 

"  But  you  are  going  to  send  him  an  invitation  ?  " 

Madame  Permon  tried  to  explain  that  that  was  a 
different  thing  ;  but  Junot,  in  despair,  inquired  how 
she  meant  to  invite  him. 

"Why,  how  should  I  invite  him?  Just  like  any  one 
else,  only  that  I  will  write  the  invitation  with  my  own 
hand,      lie     knows     my     handwriting    well    enough. 


i8oo]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COURT  139 

And  I  have  not  taken  so  much  trouble  for  any  one 
for  three  years.     Ask  Loulou." 

Junot  walked  up  and  down  the  room  very  much 
disturbed. 

"  It  will  never  do,"  he  persisted.  "  It  would  be 
better  not  to  invite  him  at  all.  He  will  think  you 
mean  an  impoliteness." 

"  Then  he  will  be  mistaken.  How  can  it  be  an 
impoliteness?  He  will  think  nothing  of  the  sort,  and 
you  will  see  that  after  receiving  the  invitation  he  w  ill 
come  and  call  like  any  other  well-bred  man,  or  at  any 
rate  will  leave  his  card." 

"  What !     Do  you  think  he  has  visiting  cards  ?  " 

"And  why  not  ?  My  dear  child,  because  Buona- 
parte gains  victories,  is  there  any  reason  why  he  should 
not  pay  visits  ?  " 

Junot  looked  at  her  with  an  air  of  consternation, 
and  Albert  and  Laura  gave  way  to  the  fits  of  laughter 
they  could  no  longer  suppress.  Although  at  present 
no  pretensions  of  royalty  had  been  put  forth  by 
Napoleon,  still  for  more  than  a  year  he  had  held 
supreme  power  in   France. 

Albert  made  a  sign  to  the  others  not  to  oppose  his 
mother,  and  they  arranged  to  go  together  to  take  the 
invitations  to  the  Tuileries.e.xcusing  Madame  Permon 
on  account  of  her  health,  not  letting  her  know  any- 
thing about  it,  and  not  presenting  the  notes  she  had 
written. 

This  they  accordingly  did  next  day.  Josephine 
accepted  for  herself  and  Hortense,  but  said  that  it 
would  be  of  no  use  to  ask  Napoleon,  as  he  scarcely 
ever  went  out.  Josephine,  who  knew  of  the  old 
friendship  of  the  First  Consul  for  the  Permons  and 


140  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

his  wish  to  marry  Madame  Permon,  had  an  aversion 
to  any  renewal  of  intimacy,  and  had  been  supposed  to 
disapprove  of  Laura's  marriage  to  Junot.  She  was 
well  aware  that  they  were  great  friends  of  her  hus- 
band's family,  whom  she  could  not  bear,  which 
perhaps  was  not  surprising. 

When  Laura  and  iier  husband  and  brother,  how- 
ever, went  up  to  Napoleon's  room,  he  accepted  the 
invitation  without  any  difficulty. 

"Of  course  I  will  come  to  the  ball,"  he  said,  taking 
both  Laura's  hands.  "  Why  do  you  look  as  if  you 
thought  I  should  refuse?  I  will  come  with  pleasure. 
And  yet  I  shall  be  in  the  midst  of  my  enemies,  for 
your  mother's  sa/on  is  filled  with  them." 

As  the  day  of  the  ball  drew  near,  Laura  felt  a 
certain  uneasiness  in  the  first  place  as  to  how  her 
mother  would  receive  the  First  Consul,  and  also 
because  Madame  Permon  insisted  on  her  dancing  the 
inenuct  dc  la  cour.  In  spite  of  Albert's  age  and 
Laura's  marriage,  they  never  opposed  their  mother's 
will,  so  Laura  had  to  resign  herself  and  dance  the 
minuet  she  detested  because  Madame  Permon  de- 
clared it  had  always  been  the  custom. 

As  to  the  rest,  the  ball  was  most  successful.  The 
staircase  and  rooms  were  beautifully  decorated  with 
plants  and  flowers,  and  about  nine  o'clock  Josephine 
arrived  with  her  son  and  daughter,  saying  that  the 
First  Consul  had  been  unavoidably  detained,  but 
would  not  fail  to  come,  only  he  begged  they  would 
not  wait  for  him  to  begin  dancing.  Laura  and  Junot 
therefore  opened  the  ball  with  Eugene  and  Hortense 
de  licauharnais,  and  just  before  eleven  the  trampling 
of  the  horses  of  the  escort  of  the   l^'irst  Consul  was 


i8oo]  AT   XAPOLEOX'S   COURT  141 

heard  under  the  windows,  and  presently  Napoleon 
entered. 

Madame  Permon,  who  was  dressed  in  white  crepe 
with  jonquils  and  diamonds,  came  forward  to  meet  him 
with  a  low  curtsey,  but  he  held  out  his  hand,  sayinj^ 
with  a  smile — 

"  Well,  Madame  Permon,  is  that  the  way  you 
receive  an  old  friend?"  And  the\'  entered  the 
ballroom  together. 

It  was  very  crowded  and  hot,  in  spite  of  which 
Napoleon  kept  on  his  well-known  grey  overcoat  all 
the  time.  Looking  round  the  room,  he  noticed  that 
some  of  the  ladies  did  not  rise  when  he  came  in,  a 
thing  which  always  annoyed  him.  He  went  on,  with 
Madame  Permon  still  upon  his  arm,  to  her  bedroom, 
where  Talleyrand  and  several  others  were  sitting, 
ordered  the  dancing,  which  had  stopped  on  his 
arrival,  to  go  on  again,  and  turning  to  Madame 
Permon  with  a  look  of  admiration,  asked  if  she 
would  not  dance  with  him,  but  she  declined,  saying 
that  she  had  not  danced  for  thirty  \-ears. 

All  the  Buonaparte  family  except  Joseph  were 
present.  Madame  Leclerc  had  seated  herself  as  far 
as  she  could  from  her  sister-in-law,  of  whose  exquisite 
toilette  she  was  furiously  jealous. 

"  Really,"  she  exclaimed,  looking  at  the  poppies 
and  golden  corn  Josephine  wore  on  her  dress  and  in 
her  hair,  "  I  cannot  understand  how  a  woman  of  forty 
can  wear  wreaths  of  flowers  !  " 

And  on  Laura  observing  that  Madame  Permon, 
who  was  older,  was  also  wearing  flowers,  she  replied 
only — 

"  Oh  !  that's  ver\-  different," 


142  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

Laura,  dressed  in  India  muslin  embroidered  with 
silver,  was  occupying  herself  with  everybody  and 
looking  after  everything  that  concerned  the  success 
of  the  evening.  Thinking  that  her  mother,  although 
perfectly  polite,  was  not  sufficiently  cordial  to  the 
First  Consul,  who  was  evidently  inclined  to  renew 
their  old  friendship,  at  any  rate  in  some  degree,  she 
went  to  look  for  her  and  persuaded  her  to  come  out 
of  her  boudoir,  where  she  was  sitting,  into  her  bed- 
room, where  Napoleon  was  still  talking  to  Talleyrand. 
Directly  he  saw  her  he  came  up  to  her,  and  in  a 
friendly,  almost  affectionate,  manner,  reproached  her 
with  her  forgetful ness  of  an  old  friend,  refusing  to 
accept  her  excuses  and  explanations,  and  at  last 
asking  her  if  they  were  indeed  no  longer  friends. 

"  Dear  Napoleon,"  she  replied  in  Italian,  "  I  can 
never  forget  that  you  are  the  son  of  my  friend  and 
the  brother  of  my  good  Joseph,  Lucien  and  Paulette." 

"  So,"  interrupted  he,  "  if  I  am  still  anything  at  all 
to  you,  it  is  only  thanks  to  my  mother  and  brothers  ! 
Well,  one  might  as  well  expect  firmness  from  the  shift- 
ing sand  of  the  desert  as  friendship  from  a  woman." 

Laura  felt  very  uncomfortable  during  this  dis- 
cussion. Her  mother  was  leaning  back  against 
the  cushion  on  the  sofa  tapping  with  her  foot,  as  she 
always  did  when  she  was  getting  angry ;  whilst 
Napoleon  walked  up  and  down  with  disturbed  looks, 
and  when  at  that  moment  Albert  came  in  and  offered 
him  an  ice,  he  replied — 

"  I  assure  you,  my  dear  fellow,  that  neither  Madame 
Permon  nor  I  require  it.  I  really  think  we  are  frozen 
as  it  is.  I  knew  that  absence  brought  forgetfulness, 
but  not  to  such  an  extent  as  this." 


I 


i8oo]  AT   XAPOI.F.O\''S   COl'RT  143 

"  Indeed  !  "  retorted  Madame  Permon.  "  It  is  excus- 
able to  fort^et  after  years  have  passed,  but  you  found 
it  too  difficult  to  remember  for  a  few  days  a  thing 
upon  which  a  person's  whole  prospects  depended." 

Albert  and  Laura  felt  in  despair  at  the  old  griev- 
ance of  the  stupid  Stephanopoli,  who  was  not  worth 
the  trouble  he  had  caused,  being  so  inopportunely 
raked  up  just  when  the  friendship  of  Napoleon  was 
of  such  infinite  importance  to  them  all  ;  and  the  First 
Consul  gave  vent  to  an  irritated  exclamation,  but 
apparently'  changing  his  mind,  he  sat  down  by 
Madame  Permon,  took  her  hand,  and  began  to  laugh 
at  her  for  not  having  left  off  her  old  trick  of  biting 
her  nails. 

"  Come,  come,"  she  said  presently,  "  let  ever)'thing 
stay  as  it  was.  It  is  only  you.  Napoleon,  who  must 
not  do  that.  You  have  so  many  steps  to  mount  to 
the  top  of  your  ladder  of  glory  that  to  desire  repose 
for  you  would  be  wishing  evil  for  us." 

"  Do  you  really  think  what  you  say  ?  " 

"You  know  how  sincere  I  am,"  she  replied.  "I 
don't  always  say  all  I  think,  but  I  never  say  what 
I  don't  think.     Have  you  forgotten  my  candour?  " 

Napoleon  took  her  hand,  pressed  it  affectionatelx', 
and  as  two  o'clock  struck  asked  for  his  carriage, 
saying  he  could  not  possibly  stay  to  supper,  but 
would  come  again  to  see  her.  Before  he  left  he  told 
them  that  enormous  bills  had  been  sent  to  Bourrienne 
for  things  ordered  by  Jerome  Buonaparte,  who,  though 
only  fifteen,  had  bought  amongst  other  things  a 
magnificent  dressing-case  fitted  up  with  gold,  ivory, 
and  mother-of-pearl,  filled  with  razors, combs  for  mous- 
taches, &c.,  and  costing  eight  or  ten  thousand  francs. 


CHAPTER    IX 

1 800 

THE  consular  Court,  in  which  Laura  occupied  so 
distinguished  a  position,  was  composed  in 
great  part  of  the  generals  of  Napoleon,  chiefly  young 
men  and  their  wives,  most  of  whom  were  scarcely 
past  their  childhood.  Some  of  them  were  of  good 
blood,  for  the  newly  risen  officers  and  functionaries 
were  eager  to  marry  the  daughters  of  the  old  French 
families,  whose  ruined  parents  were  sometimes  like 
Madame  Permon,  willing  enough  to  give  their  con- 
sent. For  the  most  part,  however,  the  faubourg  St. 
GevDiain  held  aloof,  to  the  intense  annoyance  and 
irritation  of  Napoleon.  Some  of  the  younger  genera- 
tion served  in  the  army  or  the  State,  as,  for  instance, 
the  two  sons  of  M.  de  Caulaincourt,  but  on  the  whole 
the  two  societies  were  entirely  separate,  and  regarded 
each  other  with  something  like  hatred. 

But  in  all  divisions  and  classes  of  society  the  stern 
lessons  of  the  Revolution,  whose  perils  and  sorrows 
were  still  so  fresh  in  everyone's  mind,  had  changed 
the  tone  into  one  of  colder,  stricter  morality  than  had 
formerly  prevailed.    The  early  court  of  Napoleon  was 

much  more  correct  in  morals  than  in  manners,  and  he 

144 


i8oo]  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  145 

himself  was,  for  some  reason  or  other,  extremely 
anxious  that  it  should  be  so,  and  remarkably  par- 
ticular about  the  conduct  and  reputation  of,  at  any 
rate,  the  women  of  his  court,  although,  being  devoid  of 
either  religion  or  inoralit\',  he  did  not  trouble  himself 
to  carry  his  restrictions  and  regulations  into  his  own 
way  of  life.  He  was  extremely  jealous  of  Josephine, 
to  whom,  however,  he  never  dreamed  of  being  faithful, 
and  his  brothers  and  sisters  were  always  ready  to 
make  mischief  between   them. 

One  conspicuous  object  of  his  suspicions  and  the 
malignity  of  Madame  Leclerc,  was  a  certain  M. 
Charles,"  who  belonged  to  a  family  of  the  small  do/^r- 
£-eoisie,a.nd  was  aide-de-camp  to  General  Leclerc.  When 
Napoleon  and  Josephine  were  at  Milan,  where  they 
held  a  sort  of  court  in  the  Palazzo  Serbelloni,  M. 
Charles  was  presented  to  the  latter,  who  took  a  fancy 
to  him  and  singled  him  out  in  a  way  that  was  sure 
to  attract  attention  and  give  rise  to  slanderous  gossip. 
For  it  does  not  appear  that  there  was  anything  but 
an  intimate  and  sentimental  friendship  between 
them. 

M.  Charles  was  about  eight- and -twenty,  good- 
looking,  but  very  small,  in  no  way  remarkable. 
Napoleon  was  frequently  absent,  and  while  he  was  at 
one  or  another  of  the  Italian  towns,  M.  Charles  was 
constantly  at  the  Palazzo  Serbelloni. 

Madame  Leclerc  occupied  herself  in  spying  upon  her 
sister-in-law  and  repeating  to  Napoleon  all  the  gossip 
she  could  collect  about  her.  Shortly  afterwards  he 
found  a  pretext  for  arresting  M.  Charles,  who  was 
compelled  to  leave  the  army,  much  to  the  distress  of 

'    His  surname  was  Charles. 
II 


146  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1800 

Josephine,  who  got  him  a  place  in  Paris,  where  they 
resumed  their  friendship  when  Napoleon  was  gone  to 
Egypt  and  she  returned  from  Italy. 

Josephine  was  then  established  at  La  Malmaison, 
where  she  was  to  be  seen  wandering  about  the 
gardens  by  moonlight,  dressed  m  white  with  a  long 
veil,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  M.  Charles,  who  was  con- 
stantly at  La  Malmaison  and  seemed  very  much 
at  home  there. 

Every  one  gossiped  about  it,  and  M.  Gohier 
warned  Josephine  and  tried  to  persuade  her  to  break 
off  the  intimacy. 

Josephine,  however,  refused,  declaring  with  tears 
that  it  was  nothing  but  a  harmless  friendship. 

"  Then  get  a  divorce,"  said  Gohier.  "  You  say  that 
there  is  nothing  but  friendship  between  you  and 
M,  Charles  ;  but  if  your  friendship  is  so  exclusive 
that  it  makes  you  break  all  the  rules  of  society,  I 
advise  you  to  get  a  divorce  just  the  same  as  if  you 
were  in  love.  If  your  friendship  is  all  that  signifies 
to  you,  it  will  make  up  for  everything  else.  Believe 
me,  all  this  will  bring  you  trouble." 

When  Napoleon  came  back  he  was  furious  at  all  he 
heard,  and  threatened  to  divorce  Josephine.  The 
quarrel  was  made  up,  owing  partly  to  the  intercession 
of  her  children,  Eugene  and  Hortense,  but  on  con- 
dition that  M.  Charles  should  be  dismissed,  and  that 
she  would  promise  never  to  see  him  again. ' 

The  year  before  Laura's  wedding,  Caroline 
Buonaparte  had    been    married    to   Joachim    Murat, 

'  Bourrienne  accuses  Junot  of  having  made  mischief  in  this  matter, 
but  Madame  d'Abrantes,  in  her  "  Memoires,"  disproves  his  assertion. 
Junot  was  a  friend  of  M.  Charles. 


i8oo]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  147 

another  of  Napoleon's  officers,  the  son  of  an  inn- 
keeper, who  had  by  a  certain  impetuous  courage  and 
briUiancy  raised  himself  to  a  high  position  in  the 
republican  army.  Murat  was  rash,  vain,  and  weak, 
and  Napoleon  disapproved  of  his  marriage  with 
Caroline,  whom  he  wanted  to  marry  to  Moreau.  He 
had  also  a  private  grudge  against  him,  which  was 
this  :— 

Murat  was  a  friend  of  Madame  Tallien  and  of 
Madame  Buonaparte  (Josephine),  and  was  very  fond 
of  boasting  of  the  fact.  He  gave  a  dejeuner  to  a 
number  of  his  brother  officers,  at  which,  after  drink- 
ing ^  great  quantity  of  champagne,  he  proposed  to 
make  punch  in  a  special  way  which  he  declared  had 
been  taught  him  by  the  prettiest  and  most  charming 
woman  in  Paris.  His  comrades,  whom  the  punch  had 
deprived  of  whatever  good  sense  the  champagne  had 
spared,  at  once  began  to  question  him  about  the  cir- 
cumstances and  the  name  of  the  person  in  question, 
and  succeeded  in  extracting  from  him  the  history  of 
a  day  he  had  spent  in  the  Champs  Elysces  and  of 
a  dcjeune)%d\\\\\Q:x  and  supper,  rendered  much  more 
compromising  by  the  remarks  and  stories  exaggerated 
by  his  own  vanity  and  folly,  and  the  license  of  his 
companions,  one  of  whom,  catching  up  a  gilt  lemon- 
squeezer,  which  Murat  was  using  for  the  punch,  saw  a 
monogram  upon  it  which  did  not  appear  to  be  that  of 
his  host,  but  "  J.  B.,"  which  he  began  to  spell  out  as 
Buonaparte.  Frightened  at  this,  Murat  managed  to 
put  a  stop  to  the  discussion,  but  the  matter  was 
immediately  reported  to  Napoleon,  who  was  furious, 
and  whose  first  intention  was  to  demand  an  explana- 
tion from  Murat.     On  second  thoughts,  however,  he 


148  A    LEADER   OE   SOCIErV  [1800 

considered  this  would  be  beneath  his  dignit)',  but  he 
never  Hked  Murat  afterwards. 

The  lemon-squeezer  disappeared,  and  Murat  de- 
clared that  it  had  been  stolen,  also  that  the  monogram 
was  "J.  M."  and  that  the  young  man  who  had  sup- 
posed it  to  be  anything  else  was  not  in  a  condition 
to  see  clearly  at  the  time. 

Murat  was  tall  and  picturesque-looking,  but  with 
rather  the  appearance  of  having  negro  blood  in  his 
veins  ;  he  had  also  a  deplorable  love  of  finery.  He 
fell  violently  in  love  with  Caroline  Buonaparte,  who 
had  just  left  school,  and  as  she  returned  his  passion, 
Napoleon  was  induced  to  give  his  consent  to  the 
marriage. 

Caroline  had  a  lovely  complexion,  and  pretty  teeth, 
hands,  and  feet,  but  her  features  and  figure  were 
bad,  and  her  utter  want  of  distinction  and  good 
breeding  were  made  more  conspicuous  by  the  mag- 
nificence she  afterwards  assumed.  The  contrast 
between  the  simplicity,  refinement,  and  grace  in  dress, 
manners,  and  appearance  which  characterised  the 
faubourg  St.  Germain,  and  the  vulgarity,  ostenta- 
tion, and  unmannerliness  of  the  new  society  and 
court  especially  struck  all  foreigners  who  now  and 
again  visited  Paris.  Laura,  however,  enjoyed  herself 
thoroughly  in  her  new  life.  She  went  to  the  parties 
of  her  mother's  old  friends  in  the  faubourg  St. 
Germain  as  well  as  to  those  of  the  new  court,  and 
she  delighted  in  the  grand  parades  and  military 
spectacles. 

These  she  generally  saw  from  Duroc's  windows, 
which  were  close  to  those  of  Josephine,  where  the 
corps   diplomatic] uc   or    any   other   foreigners    of   dis- 


i8oo] 


AT  XAPOLEOX'S  COURT 


149 


tinction  always  went  for  the  same  purpose.  The  first 
time  she  went  to  see  the  parade,  Junot,  who  had  to 
ride  with  all  his  aides-de-camjj,  could    not  go   with 


JOACHIM    MUKAT,   KlNt!   OK  XAI'I  ES. 

(Gerard.) 


her.  Madame  Permon  was  ill,  and  Albert  could  not 
be  away,  so  she  went  with  Junot's  parents  and  brother. 
They  got  out  of  the  carriage  at  the  gate,  and  crossed 


ISO  .     A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

the  garden  to  get  to  Duroc's  rooms.  But  the  crowd 
was  so  great  that  they  could  hardly  pass,  and  old 
M.  Junot,  who  was  as  usual  in  a  bad  humour, 
kept  grumbling  about  a  yellow  cachemire  shawl 
Laura  had  on,  declaring  that  it  was  extravagant  folly 
to  wear  anything  so  costly  in  such  a  crowd,  and  that 
it  would  be  certain  to  be  stolen. 

"  I  am  not  so  careless,"  he  said  ;  "  I  take  care  to 
keep  my  hand  upon  my  watch  ;  here  it  is  in  my  waist- 
coat pocket.  I  have  no  fear  of  pickpockets.  As  to 
your  shawl,  you  will  certainly  have  it  stolen." 

Just  then  Laura  felt  some  one  pull  at  her  shawl. 
She  gave  a  cry,  and  M.  Junot  turned  to  see  who 
it  was  ;  but  every  face  looked  quite  unconscious,  and 
Laura  drew  her  shawl  closer  round  her. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  so  ?  "  exclaimed  he,  and  he  went 
on  grumbling  till  they  arrived  at  Duroc's,  where  they 
took  possession  of  the  window  reserved  for  them. 
Presently,  wishing  to  look  at  his  watch,  he  felt  in  his 
waistcoat  pocket.  It  was  gone,  the  nearest  pick- 
pocket having  been  guided  by  his  own  words  to  it. 

"  Well,"  said  his  wife,  without  turning  her  head 
from  the  window  to  reply  to  the  clamour  he  made, 
"they  stole  your  watch  while  you  were  tormenting 
your  daughter-in-law  about  her  shawl,  and  it  served 
you  right." 

It  was  Laura's  custom  to  dine  at  four  o'clock  ;  at 
any  rate,  dinner  was  ordered  for  that  hour  every  day, 
but  she  very  often  dined  and  spent  the  evening  with 
her  mother,  especially  when  Junot  was  at  any  official 
dinner,  for  she  never  let  a  day  i)ass  without  seeing 
her. 

Lucien  Buonaparte  used  to   come  in  the  evening 


i8ooJ  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  151 

sometimes  to  pour  into  Madame  Permon's  ears  his 
grievances  and  differences  with  Napoleon,  to  whose 
rapidly-growing  power  Lucien's  fanatical  republi- 
canism was  opposed,  so  that  there  were  constant 
disputes  between  them,  ending  in  a  serious  quarrel 
in  which  their  mother,  the  Signora  La:titia,  as 
Napoleon  called  her,  took  Lucien's  side. 

Lucien  had  lost  his  wife,  and  now  left  Paris,  taking 
with  him  his  two  little  girls,  indignantly  rejecting 
Madame  Permon's  suggestion  to  leave  them  with 
Joseph's  wife,  «/<?  Mademoiselle  Clary,  who  was  very 
good-hearted,  but  was  described  in  a  letter  written  at 
that  time  by  Colonel  Nightingale  to  Lord  Cornwall  is 
as  "a  very  short,  very  thin,  very  ugly,  and  very 
vulgar  little  woman,  without  anything  to  say  for 
herself." 

"  At  the  opera,  where  used  to  be  seen  brilliant 
groups  of  all  the  young  people  of  fashion,  and  all  the 
fashionable  ' filles '  or  demi-moyidc  who  rivalled  or 
surpassed  them  in  appearance,  was  now  the  strangest 
collection  of  odd  blackguard-looking  people  that 
could  be  conceived."  ^ 

One  evening,  at  the  Comedie  Francaise,  Junot 
pointed  out  to  Laura  a  woman  of  two  or  three  and 
twenty,  but  looking  much  younger,  who  returned  his 
bow  with  an  air  of  old  acquaintanceship,  saying  that 
she  was  Pauline,  "  our  sovereign  in  the  East."  Her 
history  was  as  follows  :  She  was  the  natural  daughter 
of  a  gentleman  at  Carcassonne  by  a  servant,  and 
supported  herself  by  needlework.  A  certain  ]\L 
and  Madame  de  Sales  took  her  up,  and  as  she  had 
received  some  education  and  was  well  conducted  and 

■  Journal  of  Miss  Hcrry,  vol.  ii.  p.  139. 


152  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

attractive,  they  showed  her  great  kindness,  and  had 
her  to  sing  and  recite  at  their  parties,  where  a  rich 
man  named  Foures,  whose  father  had  made  a  fortune 
in  trade,  fell  in  love  and  proposed  to  marry  her. 
Pauline  accepted  him  from  motives  of  interest  and 
ambition,  and  when  soon  afterwards  there  was  a  call 
for  more  troops  to  go  to  Egypt,  M.  Foures,  who 
was  very  fond  of  her,  wanted  her  to  go  with  him. 
She  agreed,  and  arrived  in  Egypt  disguised  in  man's 
clothes,  delighted  with  the  adventure,  and  eager  for 
any  amusement  that  might  come  in  her  way. 

One  day  there  was  a  sort  of  fair  or  /c'^e  near  Cairo, 
to  which  she  went  with  a  number  of  officers  and 
young  people,  riding  donkeys.  Suddenly  a  troop  of 
cavalry  rode  up,  at  the  head  of  which  was  the  First 
Consul  surrounded  by  his  staff.  He*  saw  and  admired 
Pauline,  but  apparently  took  no  notice  of  her  and 
rode   on. 

The  next  day  Madame  Foures  received  an  invita- 
tion to  dine  with  General  Dupuy,  who  had  a  wife,  or 
some  one  supposed  to  be  his  wife,  who  received  his 
guests. 

M.  Foures,  who  was  lieutenant  in  the  22nd 
Chasseurs,  thought  it  strange  that  he  was  not  in- 
cluded in  the  invitation,  but  allowed  her  to  accept  it. 

The  party  was  a  small  one,  and  nothing  unusual 
passed  until  just  as  the  coffee  was  brought  in,  Buona- 
parte was  announced.  He  stayed  a  very  short  time, 
during  the  whole  of  which  he  looked  at  no  one  but 
Madame  P'ourcs.  However,  he  left  without  speaking 
to  her,  and  a  few  days  later  Bcrthier  sent  for  her 
husband,  and  told  him  that  he  had  been  chosen  by 
the  Commander-in-Chief  to  carry  some  despatches  to 


i8oo]  AT  NAPOLEON  S   COURT  153 

Europe,  and  must  set  out  immediately,  but  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  take  his  wife  as  the  ship  was 
small  and  inconvenient,  and  besides  there  was 
danger  from  the  English,  who  were  on  the  watch 
for  every  French  vessel  that  sailed.  All  this  was 
explained  by  Berthier  with  much  pretended  sympath)-, 
and  the  deluded  Fourcs  set  off  upon  his  voyage, 
which  was  soon  interfered  with  by  an  English  ca[)tain, 
who  captured  M.  Fourcs  and  his  despatches. 

Proceeding  to  investigate  the  latter,  the  English 
captain  found  nothing  of  any  importance  in  them, 
and  had  heard  quite  enough  of  the  affair  to  make 
him  understand  why  M,  Fourcs  was  sent  to 
Europe.  He  therefore  consented  to  take  him  back 
to  Cairo,  where,  arriving  unexpectedly,  he  found  his 
lodgings  empty  and  his  wife  established  in  a  house 
of  her  own  close  to  that  of  the  Commander-in-Chief 

Fourcs,  who  was  deeply  attached  to  his  wife,  was 
beside  himself  with  grief  and  anger,  but  it  was  of  no 
use — she  refused  to  return  to  him,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  consent  to  a  divorce.  Pauline  was  passionately  in 
love  with  Napoleon,  and  lived  with  him  as  his 
mistress  as  long  as  he  remained  in  Egypt.  When  the 
time  came  for  him  to  return  to  France  he  announced 
to  her  that  they  must  part.  There  was,  he  said,  a 
possibility  of  his  being  captured  by  the  English,  and 
it  would  not  do  for  her  to  be  found  with  him. 

Therefore  she  had  to  stay  behind,  much  alarmed 
about  her  husband,  against  whom  she  had  now  no 
protector,  for  Kleber,  from  whom  she  had  to  get  a 
passport,  would  not  give  it  until  another  officer  inter- 
fered and  got  it  for  her. 

When  she  arrived  in  France,  Pauline  was  no  longer 


154  --^    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

of  much  importance  to  Napoleon,  who  had  just  be- 
come reconciled  to  Josephine  after  his  quarrel  about 
M.  Charles,  and  was  very  anxious  she  should  not 
find  out  at  so  inopportune  a  moment  the  difference 
between  his  precepts  and  his  practice.  Therefore  he 
would  not  allow  Pauline  to  have  a  house  in  Paris,  so 
she  bought  one  near  Saint-Gervais,  where  Junot  used 
to  go  to  see  her.  M.  Foures  meanwhile  returned  with 
the  army  from  Egypt,  and  wanted  to  make  his  wife 
come  back  to  him.  She  appealed  to  the  divorce 
pronounced  in  Egypt,  but  it  appeared  that,  as  it  had 
not  been  confirmed  within  the  proper  time  in  France, 
it  was  not  legal. 

Napoleon,  to  put  an  end  to  the  matter,  ordered 
Pauline  to  marry  again.  There  was  a  M.  Ram- 
chouppe  who  was  in  love  with  her,  and  to  him 
the  First  Consul  promised  a  consulate  in  some 
distant  place  if  she  married  him,  which  she  consented 
to  do. 

Junot  advised  her  to  see  some  lawyer  and  consult 
him  about  the  divorce,  so  she  applied  to  her  old  friend 
M.  de  Sales,  who  belonged  to  that  profession,  and 
who  told  her  that  the  divorce  pronounced  in  Egypt 
was  not  legal,  and  as  she  evidently  could  not  live 
happily  with  her  husband,  they  had  better  agree  in 
demanding  a  fresh  one. 

But  of  this  Napoleon  would  not  hear.  He  was 
just  then  going  to  be  crowned,  and  did  not  want  his 
name  to  be  dragged  into  a  case  like  this.  He  was 
very  angry  with  M.  de  Sales  for  opposing  his 
wishes,  and  declared  that  he  was  not  going  to  have 
the  Parisians  gossiping  at  his  expense,  but  that  the 
marriage,  whether    legal    or  not,  should  take  place 


i8oo]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  155 

without  any  further  divorce.  So  it  did  ;  but  the 
strangest  part  of  the  story  is  that  the  woman  whom 
Napoleon  had  treated  in  this  manner  many  years 
afterwards,  when  he  was  imprisoned  at  St.  Helena, 
realised  jjart  of  her  fortune,  and  was  preparing  to 
make  some  attempt,  which  of  course  would  have 
failed,  to  deliver  him,  when  his  death  put  an  end  to 
her  hopes. 

One  advantage  that  Laura  thoroughly  appreciated 
in  her  husband's  being  Commandant  of  Paris  was 
that  it  gave  them  a  right  to  a  box  at  each  of  the 
theatres,  to  which  Madame  Permon,  who  had  gone 
to  a  new  doctor  and  was  for  the  time  much  better, 
often  accompanied  them. 

One  evening  they  were  at  the  opera — Madame 
Permon,  Laura.  Junot  and  her  brother.  The  house 
was  very  full,  the  toilettes  were  brilliant,  and  Junot, 
who  had  just  been  dining  with  Berthier,  then  Minister 
of  War,  was  in  high  spirits  because  of  some  very 
flattering  remarks  made  about  him  by  the  First 
Consul  and  repeated  by  Berthier. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  tremendous  explosion  with  a 
noise  like  the  firing  of  a  cannon.  Junot  w^ent  out 
into  the  corridor,  but  saw  nobody.  He  came  for  his 
hat,  saying  that  he  would  go  and  find  out  what  it  was, 
and  at  that  moment  the  First  Consul  entered  his 
box  with  Josephine,  Hortense,  and  Madame  Murat, 
accompanied  by  several  officers.  A  few  minutes 
afterwards  Duroc  came  to  Junot's  box  and  told  them 
that  Napoleon  had  narrowly  escaped  being  assassi- 
nated. Directly  the  news  became  known  there  was 
an  immense  sensation  in  the  theatre,  women  shedding 
tears  and  everyone  cheering  the  First  Consul.     Junot 


156  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

went   to    take  his  orders,  and  then   left   the  theatre, 
telHng  the  others  not  to  wait  for  him. 

In  the  next  box  to  theirs  was  M.  Diestrich,  aidc- 
dc-ca))ip  to  General  Vandamme,  with  his  mother  and 
sister.  He  told  them  that  tlie  intention  of  the 
assassins  had  been  to  place  the  cart  in  which  was  the 
explosive  machine  against  the  entrance  to  the  opera- 
house.  Fortunately  the  official  obeyed  the  orders  he 
had  received  never  to  allow  any  vehicle  to  stand  there 
on  the  night  of  a  first  representation,  otherwise  the 
theatre  would  have  been  blown  up.  He  added  that 
he  had  come  back  for  his  mother  and  sister,  as  none 
of  the  assassins  were  yet  arrested,  and  there  was  no 
saying  whether  another  attempt  might  not  be  made 
when  the  First  Consul  came  out. 

Madame  Permon  therefore  hurried  Laura  off,  and 
Junot,  looking  in  as  they  were  putting  on  their  cloaks, 
told  her  to  get  away  at  once,  drop  her  mother  at  her 
house,  and  go  on  to  Madame  Buonaparte's,  where  he 
would  meet  her. 

She  found  they  had  just  returned  from  the  opera, 
Josephine  was  crying  and  Napoleon  engaged  in  con- 
versation with  several  officers  and  officials.  Junot, 
Fouche,  and  others  thought  that  these  attempts  were 
organised  in  some  foreign  country  ;  Napoleon  was  of 
opinion  that  they  were  the  work  of  fanatical  Repub- 
licans, amongst  whom,  he  said,  were  a  number  of  the 
septembriseii  rs. 

"They  are  a  lot  of  wretches,"  he  added,  "who  have 
caluminated  Liberty  by  the  crimes  they  have  com- 
mitted in  her  name." 

Nine  people  were  killed  by  the  explosion  and  at 
least  twenty  more  died  afterwards  of  the  injuries  they 


i8oo]  AT   XA1>0LE0>J'S   COURT  157 

had  received.  Junot  had  had  a  narrow  escape.  He 
had  been  to  the  Tuileries  on  hi.s  way  to  the  opera,  but 
had  just  missed  the  First  Consul.  If  he  had  found 
him,  his  own  carriage  would  have  been  just  behind  his, 
and  would  certainly  have  been  blown  up.  The  last 
man  of  the  escort  had  his  horse  killed.  A  slight 
delay  in  changing  her  shawl,  which  Rapp  observed 
did  not  suit  her  dress,  saved  Josephine  ;  as  it  was,  the 
windows  of  her  carriage  were  shattered,  and  the 
broken  glass  fell  all  over  Hortense  and  cut  her  neck. 

A  day  or  two  afterwards  Junot,  who  was  occupied 
from  morning  till  night  in  the  researches  made  after 
the  conspirators,  came  home  so  tired  and  exhausted 
that  instead  of  going,  as  he  had  promi.sed,  to  fetch 
Laura  from  her  mother's,  he  sent  the  carriage  with  a 
message  and  went  to  bed,  though  it  was  only  ten 
o'clock.  He  was  sleeping  in  a  little  camp-bed  near 
hers,  as  she  had  been  suffering  from  a  slight  attack  of 
fever.  She  went  up  to  wish  him  good-night,  and 
bending  over  him.,  said — 

"What!  asleep  already?"  when  Junot,  who  was 
dreaming  that  the  assassins  were  in  the  room,  started 
up  in  his  sleep  and  gave  her  a  violent  kick,  which 
flung  her  to  the  other  side  of  the  room.  At  the 
cry  she  gave  her  maid  rushed  in  with  a  light, 
and  Junot  awoke  almost  out  of  his  senses  with 
horror  and  fright,  for  Laura  was  very  much  hurt  and 
spat  blood,  besides  which  she  was  supposed  to  be 
enceinte.  When  the  doctor  arrived  and  examined 
into  the  state  of  the  case  he  declared  that  if  Junot 
had  been  a  very  little  further  off,  so  as  to  give  more 
force  to  the  blow,  he  would  have  killed  her. 

Although  accustomed  from  her  earliest  childhood 


158  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1800 

to  be  constantly  in  society,  Laura  found  the  enormous 
number  of  people  she  was  now  obliged  to  see  and 
receive  both  perplexing  and  fatiguing.  They  were 
always  giving  dinners  of  five-and-twenty  or  thirty 
people,  followed  by  soirees  of  more  than  a  hundred, 
who,  instead  of  being  old  and  intimate  friends,  such 
as  formed  the  circle  of  Madame  Permon,  were  many 
of  them  strangers  to  her,  and  sometimes  persons  she 
regarded  with  aversion,  even  horror.  One  morning 
when  they  were  at  dejeuner  a  tall  man  entered  dressed 
in  blue.  Junot  called  him  "  general,"  but  did  not 
introduce  him  to  her,  and  seemed  constrained  in  his 
manner.  When  they  went  into  the  drawing-room, 
to  her  astonishment  he  pushed  before  her,  nearly 
knocking  her  down.  Junot  offered  him  coffee,  which 
he  refused,  saying — 

"  No,  thank  you,  General  ;  I  never  take  a  demi-tasse 
in  the  morning.  A  petit-verre  perhaps,  if  mam'selle 
permits." 

"  It  is  my  wife,"  remarked  Junot  coldly. 

"  Ah  !  it  is  the  eitoyejine  Junot,"  said  the  fellow, 
staring  at  her.  "  The  devil !  you  haven't  done 
badly,  ]>io?i  collegnc  !  " 

He  then  engaged  in  conversation  with  one  of 
Junot's  aides-de-eanip,  and  Laura  listened  with 
increasing  disgust  to  the  ungrammatical,  brutal 
language  and  shameless  allusions  to  the  crimes 
which  had  disgraced  the  Republicans  in  Brittany 
and  La  Vendee,  in  which  he  had  evidently  borne 
a  leading  part.     It  was  Santerre.^ 

'  Santerre,  brewer  in  the  faubourg  St.  Antoine,  commanded  the 
National  Guard,  August,  1792,  when  the  Royal  Family  were  in  the 
Temple.     Infamous  for  his  cruelties  in   the  war  of  La  V'endee. 


i8oo]  AT  KAPOLEOy^   COURT  159 

"  Ma  /oi  !  "  exclaimed  Junot  when  he  was  gone, 
"  I  did  not  choose  to  introduce  such  a  fellow  to  you. 
I  don't  like  him  to  come  to  my  house,  and  he  very 
seldom  does.  ...  It  is  impossible  for  me,  republican 
though  I  am,  to  give  my  hand  to  Santerre  when  I 
meet  him  in  the  Tuileries  gardens,  the  revolutionary 
general,  which  means  general  of  that  army  in  which 
the  guillotine  was  always  ready,  like  a  cannon  with  a 
lighted  fuse.  I  cannot  bear  them  ;  their  conduct  is 
all  stained  with  blood  :  they  are  repugnant  to  me.  1 
am  republican  in  principles  and  taste,  but  I  have  a 
horror  of  the  blood  and  massacres  and  confiscations 
and  all  that  awful  reign  of  terror  under  which  France 
groaned  for  years.  Santerre  is  a  wretch,  he  is  under 
a  sort  of  police  surveillance,  and  I  daresay  he  says  I 
am  proud  and  disdainful  because  I  don't  fraternise 
with  him  ;  no,  I  should  think  not,  for  I  despise  him.' 

"  Why,  I  thought  he  was  dead  four  years  ago  !  " 
exclaimed  Napoleon,  when  Laura  told  him  about  it. 
"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him?  Isn't  he  hand- 
some and  amiable?  Those  are  the  sort  of  people 
who  would  like  to  see  the  happy  days  of  '93  again  ! 
M.  Santerre  would  be  charmed  to  gain  a  lieutenant- 
general's  epaulettes  as  he  gained  those  of  general  of 
brigade — by  sending  better  men  than  himself  to  the 
scaffold." 


CHAPTER  X 
1801 

THE  chateau  of  La  Malmaison,  which  had  been 
bought  by  Josephine,  was  her  favourite  and 
at  this  time  her  most  habitual  residence.  There  was 
then  very  Httle  state  or  ceremony  in  the  Hfe  there, 
which  was  in  some  ways  a  good  deal  like  that  of  a 
house  party  in  a  country  house. 

Every  one  got  up  when  they  chose  in  the  morning, 
and  breakfast  was  at  eleven  in  a  small  salon  looking 
on  the  courtyard.  No  men  were  ever  present  unless 
they  were  members  of  the  family  of  Buonaparte,  and 
not  often  even  then.  After  breakfast  they  talked, 
read,  or  otherwise  amused  themselves,  and  Josephine 
often  gave  audiences,  though  Napoleon  disliked  her 
doing  so.  However,  she  did  it  out  of  kindness,  and 
received  in  this  way  presents  of  jewels,  which  did  not 
occur  to  her,  as  they  did  to  her  enemies,  in  the  light 
of  bribes. 

Many  of  her  old  friends  of  the  faubourg  St. 
Germain,  and  some  who  had  not  troubled  themselves 
about  her  when  she  was  only  the  wife  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Vicomte  de  Beauharnais,  gathered  round  her 
now  that  her  husband   was  the  ruler  of  France,  and 


i8oi]  A    LEADER   01-    SOCIETY  i(n 

Josephine,  who  was  extremely  kind-hearted,  was 
always  read)-  to  use  in  their  favour  whatever  power 
she  possessed,  and  anxious  that  it  should  be  sup- 
posed to  be  more  rather  than  less  than  it  really  was. 

One  of  these  friends,  Madame  d'Houdetot,  was 
desirous  to  push  on  her  brother,  M.  de  Cere,  a  good- 
lookini^,  feather-brained  young  fellow,  whom  his 
sister  presented  to  Joscjjhinc.  She  invited  him  con- 
stanth'  to  La  Malmaison,  and  managed  to  get  him 
a  commission  through  Savar\-.  But  M.  de  Cere  was 
so  careless  and  foolish  that  jsrotection  was  of  very 
little  use  to  him.  He  was  sent  on  a  mission  to 
Bordeaux,  with  orders  to  be  back  within  a  certain 
day,  instead  of  which  he  stayed  a  fortnight  over  the 
allotted  time.  The  First  Consul  was  very  angry,  and 
even  Josephine  refused  to  interfere  any  further, 
saying  that  he  should  not  have  stayed  when  he  was 
ordered  to  return,  and  as  he  chose  to  disobey,  there 
was  nothing  more  to  be  done.  Instead  of  being- 
made  aide-de-camp  to  Napoleon,  therefore,  he  was 
told  that  the  First  Consul  forbade  him  to  come  into 
his  presence.  He  left  Paris  for  some  months,  at  the 
end  of  which  he  returned  and  persuaded  his  sister 
and  Savary  to  induce  Josephine  to  give  him  another 
chance.  To  his  great  joy  they  told  him  that  she 
consented  to  receive  him  the  next  day,  and  that  he 
was  to  bring  a  petition  clearly  explaining  what  he 
wanted,  which  she  would  give  to  the  First  Consul. 

Accordingly  he  wrote  his  petition,  and  was  just 
going  downstairs  with  it  in  his  pocket  to  start  for 
La  Malmaison  at  tlie  appointed  time,  when  he  was 
stopped  b\-  his  tailor  with  a  bill.  Explaining  where 
he  was  going  and  promising  to  come  back  in  a  few 

1^ 


i62  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1801 

days  and  pay  the  bill,  he  put  it  into  his  pocket  and 
drove  off. 

Josephine  received  him  very  graciously,  saying  that 
she  had  spoken  to  the  First  Consul,  who  was  dis- 
posed to  overlook  his  offence  if  he  would  promise  to 
amend  ;  and  taking  the  petition  told  him  to  come  for 
the  answer  in  a  few  days. 

De  Cere,  in  high  spirits,  went  to  his  sister's  house 
and  to  his  friends  to  receive  their  congratulations,  and 
finally  to  the  hotel  where  he  was  staying.  It  was 
very  late,  and  on  retiring  to  his  room  he  recollected 
the  tailor's  bill  and  took  it  out  to  see  how  much  it 
was.  "  The  devil !  "  he  muttered  as  he  opened  it, 
"  it's  a  long  bill  ;  there's  no  end  to  it.  Why,  it  looks 
like  a  petition  !     Ah  !  inon  Dieu  !  " 

It  was  the  petition  he  had  written,  and  he  had  sent 
his  tailor's  bill  to  the  First  Consul ! 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  He  consulted  two  or  three 
of  his  brother  officers,  who  advised  him  to  go  the 
next  morning  and  explain  the  matter  to  Madame 
Buonaparte.  But  just  as  he  entered  the  hall  Josephine, 
who  was  coming  out  from  breakfast,  hastened  up  to 
him,  and  holding  out  her  hand,  exclaimed — 

"  I  am  so  glad  !  I  gave  your  petition  to  the  First 
Consul  ;  we  read  it  together  ;  it  was  excellent  and 
made  a  great  impression  upon  him.  He  told  me  he 
would  speak  to  Berthier,  and  in  another  fortnight  it 
would  be  all  arranged.  I  assure  you  that  this  success, 
for  I  regard  it  as  settled,  made  me  happy  all  yesterday." 

De  Cere  was  confounded,  but  of  course  dared  not 
explain.  It  was  evident  that  Josephine  cither  could 
not  or  would  not  meddle  any  further  in  the  matter, 
and   had    nut    the   tailor's   bill    into   the   fire  without 


i8oi]  .17'   X.llVI.EOXS   CiVRT  163 

looking;  at  it.     Tliere  was  nothini;  more  t(j  be  done 

but  to  return  to  Paris  a  sadder  and  wiser  man. 

The    First     Consul     worked    all    day  and    never 


LOUIS  Bl'ONAPAKTK,   KlXCl  OK  HOLLAND. 
(Grti^orius.) 


appeared  till  dinner,  which  was  at  six  o'clock,  and 
in  fine  weather  was  often  out  of  doors.  Every 
\Vednesda\-   there  was    a   dinner  party,  and    in   the 


164  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801 

evenings  they  danced,  played  games,  and  acted. 
There  were  often  hunting  parties  ;  every  one  amused 
themselves,  and  the  summer  passed  away  pleasantly 
enough. 

Hortense  de  Beauharnais  had  just  been  married  to 
Louis  Buonaparte  against  the  will  of  them  both,  for 
they  cared  nothing  for  each  other,  were  absolutely 
unsuited,  and  Hortense  was  in  love  with  Duroc. 
Josephine,  however,  disapproved  of  him,  and  Napoleon 
then,  in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of  his  step-daughter, 
insisted  on  her  becoming  the  wife  of  Louis,  who, 
although  a  straightforward,  honourable,  well-meaning 
man,  was  cold,  stiff,  dull,  and  uninteresting,  while 
Hortense  was  affectionate,  lively,  impressionable,  and 
fond  of  societ}'.  The  marriage  turned  out  unhappily, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  and  Duroc  became  the 
implacable  enemy  of  Josephine.' 

Laura  and  the  other  young  wives  of  the  chief 
officers,  though  they  were  happy  enough  at  La 
Malmaison,  where  their  husbands  came  nearly  every 
day,  still  did  not  wish  to  be  always  there,  but  would 
have  preferred  to  be  able  to  go  sometimes  to  their 
own  homes.  This  they  could  not  do  without  asking 
leave,  which  was  not  always  granted  ;  already  the 
fetters  of  a  Court  seemed  to  hang  upon  them. 

Laura  was  getting  anxious  to  be  with  her  mother 
again  and  also  to  see  a  little  chateau  and  estate 
which  Junot  had  spent  nearly  all  the  dol  given  by 
the  First  Consul  in  buying  for  her,  as  she  wished  to 
have  a  place  of  her  own. 

'  losciiliinc,  ;il;iniicd  at  llii.'  cimiity  ol  licr  hushaiul's  raiiiil),  w  lio 
haled  her,  was  mosl  anxious  IV)r  this  inarriaLje,  liy  uliich  .^lie  expected 
lo  secure  an  ally  in  Louis. 


i.Soi]  AT  WU'OLliOX'S   COrUT  165 

However,  it  was  a  long  time  before  she  could 
obtain  the  desired  permission,  and  then  only  in  con- 
sequence of  circumstances  quite  unforeseen  and 
unusual. 

The  Chateau  de  la  Malmaison  was  not  large,  and 
her  apartment  consisted  only  of  bedroom,  dressing- 
room,  and  her  maid's  room  adjoining. 

One  morning  she  was  awakened  by  a  violent 
rapping  close  to  her,  and  beheld  the  First  Consul 
standing  by  her  bed.  She  looked  at  him  with 
astonishment  and  rubbed  her  eyes,  hardK'  believing 
she  was  awake. 

"  Ves,  it  is  I,"  said  he;  ''\\h\-  that  astonished 
look  ?  " 

Laura  pointed  to  the  window,  wide  open  on  account 
of  the  heat,  and  to  her  watch.  It  was  not  yet  five 
o'clock  ;  the  sun  was  hardly  risen,  and  the  trees 
outside  looked  like  dark  masses. 

"  Really,"  said  Napoleon,  "  is  it  so  early  ?  Well,  so 
much  the  better  ;  we  will  talk."  And  drawing  a 
large  armchair  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  he  sat  down 
with  an  enormous  packet  of  letters,  which  he  pro- 
ceeded to  examine.  They  were  addressed  "  To  the 
First  Consul,  to  him  alone."  ^ 

Laura  suggested  that  a  trustworthy  person  might 
be  selected  to  save  him  all  this  business,  to  which  he 
replied — 

"  PerhaiJS  later  on  ;  it  is  impossible  now.  I  have 
to  see  to  it  all.  I  can't  neglect  any  petition  or  anj-- 
thing  else  when  order  has  only  so  lately  been  restored." 

"  But  this,  for  instance,"  said  Laura,  painting  to  a 
large,  ill-directed,  badly-sealed    letter;    "surely  this 

'  All  premier  consul,  a  lui-mcme  ;  a  lui  seul  en  personne. 


i66  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1801 

contains  nothing  that  could   not   be  told   you   by  a 
secretary  ? " 

He  opened  the  letter,  which  was  of  three  large 
pages,  badly  written.  He  read  it  through,  and  then 
said — 

"  Well,  this  letter  is  a  proof  that  I  do  well  to  see 
for  myself     Here,  read  it." 

It  was  from  a  woman  whose  son  had  been  killed  in 
Egypt.  The  poor  mother,  whose  husband  had  died 
also  from  the  effects  of  his  military  service,  had 
written  more  than  ten  letters  to  the  Minister  of  War, 
the  First  Consul,  and  his  secretary,  stating  that  she 
was  deprived  of  all  means  of  subsistence,  and  could 
get  no  answer.  Napoleon  got  up,  found  a  pen,  and 
made  a  note  upon  the  letter. 

The  next  was  enclosed  in  several  envelopes,  all 
perfumed  with  essence  of  roses.  He  read  it  and 
laughed. 

"  It's  a  declaration,"  he  said,  "  not  of  war,  but  of 
love.  A  beautiful  lady,  who  says  she  has  loved  me 
ever  since  she  saw  me  present  the  treaty  of  peace  of 
Campo-Formio  to  the  Directory.  And  if  I  vv^ant  to 
see  her  I  have  only  to  give  orders  to  the  porter  at  the 
Bougival  gate  to  admit  a  woman  dressed  in  white 
who  will  say  '  Napoleon.'  And,  ma  foi  !''  he  added, 
looking  at  the  date,  "  it  is  for  this  evening  !  " 

"' Mo7i  DicH  !''  cried  Laura,  "you  won't  do  any- 
thing so  imprudent  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  in  silence. 

"  What  does  it  matter  to  you  whether  I  go  to  the 
Bougival  gate  ?     What  should  happen  to  me  ?  " 

"What  does  it  matter  to  me  ?  What  could  happen 
to  you  ?     What  strange  questions,  General  !     Don't 


i8oi]  .IT  S'AI'OLEO.y^   COCk'T  167 

you  see  that  this  woman  is  a  wretch  in  the  pay  of 
your  enemies  ?  The  snare  is  too  evident.  Anyhow, 
there  is  danger.  And  then  you  ask  me  what  your 
imprudence  matters  to  me  !  " 

Napoleon  laughed. 

"  I  was  only  joking,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  think  I 
am  so  stupid  or  so  simple  as  to  swallow  such  a  bait  ? 
Every  day  I  get  those  sort  of  letters,  with  rendezvous 
here  or  at  the  Tuileries  or  Luxembourg,  but  the  only 

answer  I  make  and  they  deserve  is  this "  and  he 

wrote  a  few  lines,  enclosing  the  letter  to  the  minister 
of  police. 

"  The  devil  !  there's  six  o'clock  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as 
a  clock  struck.  And  collecting  his  papers,  he  pinched 
her  foot  through  the  coverlet,  smiled,  and  left  the 
room  sineine  to  himself — 


"Non,  non,  z'il  est  impossible 
D'avoir  un  plus  aimable  enfant, 
Un  plus  aimable  ?     Ah  I  si  vraimenl,"  iN;c. 


Laura  got  up  without  thinking  any  more  of  this 
strange  visit.  In  the  evening,  about  nine  o'clock. 
Napoleon  came  up  to  her  and  whispered,  "  I  am 
going  to  the  Bougival  gate." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  replied  Laura,  also  in  a 
whisper.  "  You  know  too  well  what  harm  your 
death  would  do  to  France  ;  but  if  you  say  another 
word  about  it  1  will  tell  Madame  Hortense  or  Junot." 

"  You  are  a  little  madcap,"  he  replied,  pinching  her 
ear  and  lifting  up  his  finger.  "If  you  sa\'  a  word 
about  what  I  have  let  )ou  sec  I  shall  not  only  be 
'displeased,  but  \'ou  will  give  me  pain." 


i68  A    LEADER   OE   SOCIETY  [1801 

"  The  last  consideration  is  enough,  General." 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment. 

"The  spirit  of  your  mother,"  he  said,  "Absolutely 
the  spirit  of  your  mother." 

She  made  no  reply,  and  after  waiting  in  silence  for 
a  few  minutes  he  walked  into  the  billiard-roorn.  The 
next  morning  Laura  was  awakened  by  the  same 
knocking  at  the  door  of  her  maid's  room,  and  again 
the  First  Consul  entered  with  a  packet  of  letters  and 
newspapers.  He  apologised  for  waking  her,  said  she 
ought  not  to  sleep  with  the  windows  open,  or  she 
would  spoil  her  teeth,  which  were  little  pearls  like 
her  mother's,  and  having  paid  her  this  compliment 
he  sat  down  and  looked  over  his  letters  and  papers, 
discussing  the  contents  with  her  and  departing  after 
a  time  in  the  same  way  as  before. 

But  Laura  now  began  to  feel  uneasy  about  these 
visits.  She  did  not  believe  Napoleon  meant  any 
harm  to  her,  and  had  all  her  life  been  accustomed  to 
look  upon  him,  not  perhaps  as  a  brother — always  a 
doubtful  expression  between  young  people  who  are 
not  really  related  to  each  other — but  as  a  cousin,  a 
relationship  of  the  widest  comprehension.  Still,  even 
cousins  do  not  come  and  sit  in  each  other's  bedrooms 
at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  she  knew  perfectly 
well  that  if  Napoleon  were  seen  coming  out  of  her 
room  at  such  an  hour  nobody  would  suppose  he  went 
there  to  read  the  papers.  Already  the  notice  he  took 
of  her  was  attracting  comment,  as  she  saw  by  the 
disagreeable  manner  of  some  and  the  exaggerated 
politeness  and  attentions  which  others  were  eager  to 
show'  her.  Although  she  was  only  sixteen,  she  had 
lived  too  much  in  the  world  not  to  know  what  that 


i8oi]  AT  i\AI>OLEO\S   COURT  i6() 

meant,  and  disliked  it  extremely,  but  could  not  think 
what  to  do.  She  was  afraid  to  tell  Junot,  who  was 
hasty,  jealous,  and  \cry  much  in  lo\c  with  her,  and 
she  did  not  like  to  sa)'  an\thinjj^  to  Napoleon  himself. 
So  she  forbade  her  maid,  who  had  not  been  loni;"  with 
her,  to  open  the  door  to  any  one  who  knocked  so 
earl)'  in  the  morning. 

"But,  madame,  if  it  is  the  First  Consul  ?" 

"  I  will  not  be  woke  up  so  earl)'  b\-  the  First 
Consul  any  more  than  an\'bod\'  else.  Do  as  I  tell 
you." 

That  da)'  \a]K)leon  was  rather  more  ci\il  and 
complimentary  than  usual,  and  Laura  saw  that  she 
was  not  the  only  one  to  observe  it.  He  announced 
that  the  day  after  to-morrow  he  was  going  to  give  a 
dejeuner  and  hunting  party,  and  that  they  would  meet 
at  ten  o'clock. 

On  retiring  to  her  room  that  night  Laura  repeated 
her  orders  to  her  maid  not  to  open  the  door,  and  then 
went  to  bed  in  unusually  low  spirits.  She  was  getting 
tired  of  being  at  La  Malmaison,  where,  though  ever)' 
one  was  very  kind  to  her,  she  was  amongst  strangers. 
She  would  much  rather  have  been  amongst  her  own 
friends,  saw  very  little  of  her  husband,  and  fretted 
for  her  mother,  who  was  in  bad  health  and  from 
whom  she  had  never  before  been  separated.  She  lay 
in  her  bed  thinking  how  to  get  awa)-,  and  cried  herself 
to  sleep.  On  awaking  in  the  morning  she  thought 
she  would  go  and  get  the  ke)'  of  the  outer  door,  and 
stealing  softly  through  the  ante-room  where  her  maid 
was  asleej),  she  found  that  the  door  was  unlocked  and 
the  ke)'  outside.  She  locked  it,  took  the  kew  went 
back  to  bed,  and   presentl)'  heard   the  steps  of  the 


lyo  A    LEADER   OE   SOCIETY  [iHoi 

First  Consul  in  the  corridor.  He  knocked  much 
more  softly  than  before,  and  she  heard  her  maid  tell 
him  that  she  had  taken  the  key.  Then  she  heard 
him  go  away,  and  went  to  sleep  again. 

She  was  awakened  by  the  door  of  her  own  room 
being  pushed  open,  and  the  First  Consul  entered. 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  being  murdered  ?  "  he  asked 
angrily. 

Laura  hesitated,  and  said  that  she  had 
taken  the  key  of  her  maid's  door  because  she  pre- 
ferred that  people  should  come  in  by  her  own. 

Napoleon  looked  at  her  in  silence,  and  then  said — 

"  To-morrow  we  are  going  to  hunt  at  Butard  ;  )'ou 
have  not  forgotten,  have  you  ?  We  shall  start  earh', 
and  I  shall  come  and  call  you  myself,  so  that  you 
may  be  in  time.  And  as  you  are  not  here  amongst 
a  horde  of  Tartars,  don't  barricade  yourself  as  you  did 
to-day.  Besides,  you  see  your  precautions  have  not 
prevented  an  old  friend  coming  to  you.     Adieu." 

And  he  went  away. 

Laura  looked  at  her  watch.  It  was  nine  o'clock, 
just  the  time  when  Napoleon  would  be  certain  to  be 
seen  by  some  of  the  maids  who  were  now  about  the 
passages  going  to  their  mistresses'  rooms,  so  it  would 
be  known  all  over  the  chateau.  She  called  her  maid 
and  asked  how  he  had  got  in.  The  woman  replied 
that  he  had  entered  with  a  pass-key,  and  she  had  not 
dared  to  prevent  his  going  into  her  mistress's  room. 

While  dressing  Laura  tried  to  think  of  some  one 
she  could  consult.  She  could  have  spoken  to  Duroc, 
but  he  was  away ;  she  thought  of  Hortense,  then  the 
remembrance  of  Josephine  put  an  end  to  that  idea. 

"  Mou  Dicu  !  what   shall    I   do  ?  "    she  exclaimed, 


i8oi]  .17    X.ll'OLEOXS   COURT  171 

sinking  back  into  a  chair  and  leaning  her  face  in  her 
hands.  At  that  moment  two  arms  were  put  round 
her  and  a  well-known   voice  said — ■ 

"  My  Laura  !  what  is  the  matter?  " 

With  a  cry  of  jo)'  Laura  threw  herself  into  her 
husband's  arms,  and  after  the  first  greeting  and 
inquiries  begged  him  to  take  her  back  to  Paris. 

"  Of  course  I  will,  directly  Madame  Buonaparte  goes 
back." 

"  Why  not  now  ?  " 

"  Now  ?     My  dear  child,  but  it  is  impossible  !  " 

Laura  said  no  more  then,  but  waited  till  the  evening. 
Since  the  attempt  on  the  life  of  the  First  Consul  the 
prefet  of  police  and  Junot  were  forbidden  to  be  absent 
froin  Paris  a  single  night.  When  Junot  came  to  La 
Malmaison  he  alwa)'s  left  about  eleven  o'clock.  On 
this  occasion  it  was  four  days  since  his  last  visit,  and 
when  Bessieres  set  out  on  his  return  and  every  one 
else  separated  for  the  night,  Laura  told  Junot  that 
she  wanted  him  to  take  a  letter  to  her  mother  and 
that  he  must  come  to  her  room  while  she  wrote  it. 
When  they  got  there  she  renewed  her  entreaties  that 
he  would  take  her  with  him,  which,  of  course,  at  such 
an  hour  and  without  notice  or  excuse  was  impossible. 
Junot  began  to  suspect  that  some  one  had  been 
annoying  her,  and  eagerly  asked  who  it  was,  that  he 
might  avenge  her. 

Finding  that  she  must  remain  where  she  was,  Laura 
begged  her  husband  to  stay  with  her,  to  which  with 
some  hesitation  he  consented,  remarking  that  he 
should  get  a  reprimand. 

About  half-past  four  in  the  morning  the  door 
opened  and  the  P'irst  Consul  came  in. 


172  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1801 

"  What  !  still  asleep.  Madame  Junot,"  he  cried,  "  on 
a  hunting  morning.      I  told  you " 

And  as  he  spoke  he  undrew  the  curtain  of  the  bed. 
Junot  sat  up  and  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"  Eh  !  ?;wn  Dien,  General !  what  are  you  doing 
here  at  this  hour? " 

"  I  came  to  wake  up  Madame  Junot  for  \\\.Q^chasse',' 
replied  Napoleon.  "  But  1  see  she  has  an  earlier 
alarum.  I  might  reprimand,  for  you  are  contraband 
here,  Monsieur  Junot." 

" Mojt  General"  replied  Junot,  "if  ever  a  fault 
were  excusable  it  is  mine.  If  you  had  seen  this  little 
syren  last  night,  employing  all  her  magic  for  more 
than  an  hour  to  seduce  me.  I  am  sure  you  would 
forgive  me." 

Napoleon  smiled,  but  it  was  a  forced  smile. 

"  Well !  I  forgive  you  entirely.  It  is  Madame  Junot 
who  must  be  punished.  To  prove  that  I  am  not 
angry  you  shall  go  out  hunting  with  us.  Did  you 
ride  here  ?  " 

"  No,  inon  General,  I  drove." 

"Well,  Jardin  will  give  you  a  horse.  Adieu, 
Madame  Junot.  Make  haste  and  get  up."  And  he 
left  the  room. 

When  they  were  all  starting  the  First  Consul  got 
into  a  little  calccJic  and  said  to  Laura — 

"Madame  Junot,  ma\'  I  have  the  honour  of  your 
company  ?  " 

Laura  got  into  the  carriage  in  silence,  for  she  did 
not  like  the  expression  of  his  face  and  smile.  The 
door  was  shut,  and  when  they  had  gone  a  little 
distance  from  the  chateau  Napoleon,  crossing  his 
arms,  turned  to  her  and  said — 


i8oi]  AT   XAI'OI.F.OXS   CO  CRT  173 

"You  think  you  are  very  clever." 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  \'ou  think  you  are  very  clever,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  myself  cleverer  than  other  people, 
but  I  don't  think  I  am  an  imbecile  ;  "  she  answered, 
seeing  that  she  must  say  something. 

"  An  iiiibecile,  no  ;  but  you  are  a  fool." 

She  was  silent. 

"Can  you  explain  to  me  for  what  reason  you  made 
\our  husband  stay  here  ?  " 

"  The  explanation  is  simple  and  short,  General.  I 
lo\e  Junot  ;  we  are  married,  and  I  suppose  there  is 
no  scandal  in  a  husband  being  with  his  wife." 

"  You  knew  that  I  had  forbidden  it,  and  that  m\- 
orders  ought  to  be  obej-ed." 

"  They  have  nothing  to  do  with  me.  When  Consuls 
have  to  decide  on  the  degrees  of  intimacy  allowed 
between  married  people  and  the  length  of  their 
interviews  I  shall  think  about  submitting  to  them. 
Until  then.  General,  I  can  only  say  that  I  shall  do  as 
I  please." 

"  You  had  no  other  reason  but  j'our  love  for  your 
husband  when  you  made  him  stay  ?  " 

"  Xo,  General." 

"  That's  a  lie." 

"  General  !  " 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  he  went  on  in  a  changed  voice.  "  I 
guessed  your  reason.  You  had  a  distrust  of  me 
which  you  ought  not  to  have  felt.  Ah  !  you  have 
nothing  to  say  !  " 

"  And  if  I  had  another  reason  than  the  distrust 
you  speak  of,  General  ;  if  I  saw  that  your  visits  at 
.such  an  hour  to  the  room   ()f  a  woman  of  m\-  age 


174  -'^    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801 

would  compromise  me  strange!}-  in  the  eyes  of  every- 
body else  in  the  house,  and  if  I  took  this  means  of 
stopping  them " 

Napoleon's  face  softened. 

"  If  that  was  it,"  he  said,  "why  did  not  you  tell 
me  what  troubled  you  ?  Have  not  I  shown  you 
friendship  enough,  naughty  child,  for  the  last  week 
to  give  you  confidence  in  me  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  was  wrong,  General,"  said  Laura  ;  and 
she  went  on  to  allude  to  the  affection  her  family  had 
always  shown  him  and  the  loyal  devotion  of  Junot, 
to  whom  he  could  not  wish  to  give  pain. 

"It  is  almost  a  sermon  that  you  are  preaching  me," 
said  Napoleon.  "  Who  wants  to  give  Junot  pain  ? 
Why  didn't  you  speak  to  me?" 

"  How  could  I,  General,  when  yesterday  morning 
you  employed  means  that  might  be  called  unworthy 
to  get  into  my  room  although  the  measures  I  took 
ought  to  have  shown  you  that  I  considered  the  early 
visits  you  were  good  enough  to  pay  me  to  be  com- 
promising, which  they  are.  You  came  in  for  a 
moment  with  an  offended  air  which  certainly  did  not 
invite  confidence.  Therefore  I  had  no  one  to  appeal 
to  but  myself.     I  may  have  been  mistaken." 

"  Were  not  you  acting  under  )-our  mother's 
advice?" 

"  My  mother  ?  How  could  she  direct  me  ?  Poor 
mother !     I  have  not  seen  her  for  a  month." 

"  You  can  write." 

"  Man  General,  I  have  not  written  to  my  mother 
that  I  am  not  safe  under  your  roof  It  would  have 
given  her  too  much  pain." 

"  Madame  Junot,  you  have  known  me  long  enough 


I  Hoi]  .it  NAPOI.EOS'-S   CO  CRT  175 

to  understand  that  \ou  will  not  continue  to  retain  my 
friendship  b)'  speaking  in  that  way.  The  only  thing 
wanting  to  the  wa\-  you  are  acting  is  that  }OU  should 
have  told  Junot  what  >ou  have  been  fanc)'ing." 

"  I  shall  not  answer  such  a  cjuestion,"  said  Laura 
angrily.  "  If  you  don't  think  I  have  either  sense  or 
reason,  at  least  give  me  credit  for  good-feeling  enough 
not  to  make  him  unhapp}\" 

"  Again  !  "  cried  Xapoleon,  striking  the  side  of  the 
carriage  with  his  hand — "  Again  !  hold  \-our  tongue  !  " 

"Xo,  I  shall  not  hold  my  tongue.  I  shall  go  on 
with  what  I  wish  to  have  the  honour  of  telling  \ou. 
I  beg  you  to  believe  that  neither  my  mother,  my 
husband,  nor  any  of  my  friends  know  what  has 
happened.  As  I  did  not  suppose  you  had  any  bad 
intentions,  it  would  ha\e  been  absurd  to  complain  of 
a  mark  of  friendship  because  it  might  compromise 
me,  but  I  thought  it  best  to  stop  it  at  any  rate,  and 
no  doubt  rny  youth  and  inexperience  have  caused 
me  to  manage  bad!}-,  since  I  have  displeased  you.  I 
am  sorry,  but  that  is  all  I  can  say." 

They  were  approaching  the  meet  ;  alreach-  the 
sound  of  horns  and  barking  of  dogs  was  heard. 
Napoleon's  face  softened. 

"  Will  you  give  me  your  word  of  honour  that  your 
husband  knows  nothing  of  all  this  nonsense?  " 

"  Good  God,  General !  how  can  you  think  of  such 
a  thing,  knowing  Junot  as  you  do?  Why,  if  I  had 
told  him  what  has  been  going  on  for  the  last  week 
neither  he  nor  I  would  be  here  now." 

Napoleon  said  nothing  at  first,  but  drummed  with 
his  fingers  on  the  edge  of  the  carriage.  Then  turning 
to  her,  he  said — 


i-jG  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801 

"  Then  you  will  not  believe  I  meant  no  harm  to 
you  ?  " 

"  I  am  so  sure  of  it  that  the  attachment  and 
admiration  I  have  ahva)s  had  for  you  are  the  same 
as  ever." 

She  stretched  out  her  hand  to  him,  but  he  smiled 
and  shook  his  head. 

"  Then  we  are  to  quarrel,"  she  said,  "  because  you 
chose  to  do  what  was  entirely  your  own  fault,  and 
now  because  you  have  given  me  pain  you  are  going 
to  let  your  beard  grow  and  hang  your  dagger  to  your 
side  !  "  I 

He  looked  out  of  the  carriage,  and  then,  turning  to 
her,  said — 

"  Believe  that  really  I  feel  for  you  a  friendship 
which  it  only  depended  upon  yourself  to  make  still 
stronger.  But  early  education  remains.  You  have 
been  taught  to  be  hostile  to  me  ;  you  don't  like  me, 
and  I  am  sure " 

"  I  take  the  liberty  of  interrupting  you,  General, 
and  I  beg  of  you  not  to  talk  in  that  way.  You  make 
me  unhappy  ;  and  besides,  it  is  entirely  untrue.  Tell 
me  you  don't  really  think  so  ;  it  would  be  too  painful 
to  leave  you  so." 

"  You  are  going  !  " 

Laura  showed  him  a  letter,  received  that  morning 
from  her  mother,  urging  her  immediate  return,  as  she 
was  ill  anfl  wanted  her. 

"And  when  will  you  come  back?"  he  asked,  with 
a  sarcastic  look  that  irritated  Laura,  who  replied 
hastily — 

"  Whenever  I  am  wanted  for  m}'  part.  General  ;  but 

'   The  sign  of  ixndclla  in  Corsica. 


i8oi]  .17"   X.H'OI.EOS'  S   COrRT  177 

you   can  dispose  of  m)-    apartment,  for   I   shall    not 
occupy  it  any  more,  I  assure  you." 

"  As  you  please.  And  after  this  stupid  affair  it 
would  not  be  very  pleasant  for  either  of  us  to  sec 
each  other.  You  are  quite  right.  Jardin  !  my  horse." 
And  he  opened  the  door,  jumped  out,  and  rode  a\va\'. 

Laura  returned  to  Paris  with  Junot,  and  dined  that 
evening  with  her  mother. 

The  next  time  she  went  to  La  Malmaison  Xapoleon 
was  all  right  again  in  his  manner  towards  her.  A 
year  afterwards,  when,  after  dining  at  La  Malmaison, 
a  storm  came  on  and  Josephine  was  trying  to  per- 
suade her  not  to  return  home  that  night  as  she 
jjersisted  in  doing,  Napoleon,  who  was  stirring  the 
logs  of  the  fire,  said  without  turning  round — 

"  Torment  her  no  more,  Josephine.  I  know  her  ; 
she  will  not  stay." 

Although  Laura  no  longer  lived  at  La  Malmaison, 
she  often  went  down  there  to  act  in  the  theatricals, 
of  which  they  all,  including  the  First  Consul,  were 
passionately  fond. 

One  day  at  dinner  the  conversation  turned  upon 
the  delights  of  private  theatricals,  in  which  Cam- 
baceres,  the  Second  Consul,  a  grave,  solemn-looking 
personage,  joined,  when  Napoleon  observed  that  he 
must  be  judging  from  hearsay,  as  he  certainly  never 
acted. 

"  And  why  not,  citoyen  premier  consul  ?  Don't 
you  think  I  look  pleasant  or  amusing  {plaisant) 
enough  to  act  ?  " 

"  Well,     citoyen      Cambaceres,"      said      Napoleon, 
"  because,  in  fact,  you   don't  look  amusing   at    all 
{yous  navez  pas  l\xir  plaisant  du  tout). 


178  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801 

"  Well  !  I  have  often  acted,  not  only  at  Montpellier, 
but  at  the  house  of  a  friend  of  mine  at  Beziers,  where 
theatricals  went  on  half  the  year,  and  one  of  the  parts 
in  which  I  had  great  success  was  that  of  Renaud  d'Ast." 

"  What  !  you  sang,"  cried  Madame  Buonaparte. 

Every  one  laughed,  but  Cambaceres  went  on 
gravely — 

"  And  as  any  part  suited  me  equally,  I  played  just 
as  well  Montauciel  in  '  The  Deserter.'  " 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter  all  round  the  table, 
but  Cambaceres,  without  attending  to  it,  continued 
to  relate  one  theatrical  anecdote  after  another,  illus- 
trating the  intrigues,  jealousies,  and  petty  quarrels 
that  prevail  behind  the  scenes  ;  while  the  First 
Consul,  who  was  himself  the  chief  manager  of  the 
theatre  at  La  Malmaison  and  its  amateur  company, 
listened  intently  with  his  elbows  on  the  table. 

The  First  Consul  told  an  amusing  story  of  Count 
Louis  de  Cobentzel  the  Austrian  ambassador  to 
Russia,  which  happened  in  1796,  at  the  court  of  St. 
Petersburg. 

The  Count  de  Cobentzel  was  no  longer  young,  and 
had  always  been  extremely  ugly,  but  he  was  exceed- 
ingly fond  of  private  theatricals,  and  had  had  a  small 
theatre  built  at  the  Austrian  embassy,  where  plays 
were  constantly  acted  and  patronised  by  the  Empress 
Catherine,  who  was  equally  devoted  to  that  diversion, 
and  often  wrote  plays  herself  which  were  acted  there. 
One  day  there  was  to  be  a  grand  representation,  in 
which  the  Count  de  Cobentzel  was  to  act  the  part  of 
the  Comtesse  d'Escarbagnas  (an  old  lady)  in  the 
presence  of  the  Empress. 

He  dressed  early,  in  order  to  be  ready  to  go  upon 


i8oi]  AT  XAl'OLEOXS   COrk'I  179 

the  stage  directly  the  Empress  should  arrive,  and 
waited  in  his  dressing-room  meanwhile. 

Just  then  a  courier  arrived  from  Vienna  with 
important  despatches  which  were  to  be  delivered  into 
the  hands  of  the  Ambassador  himself,  so  he  sent  to 
request  an  audience. 

It  was  seven  o'clock,  and  the  Comte  de  Cobentzel, 
dressed  as  an  old  lady,  with  high  heels,  powdered  and 
puffed  hair,  rouge,  pam'ers,  &c.,  was  standing  before 
the  glass  practising  fanning  himself  and  arranging  the 
patches  on  his  face.  He  sent  word  that  he  was  engaged 
and  would  see  the  messenger  the  next  morning. 

But  the  messenger,  who  was  a  young  man  and 
zealous,  a  complete  contrast  to  Josephine's  unlucky 
M,  de  Cere  had  a  perfect  mania  for  doing  his  duty. 
He  had  been  ordered  to  arrive  at  St.  Petersburg  on  a 
certain  day  before  midnight,  and  having  carried  out 
his  instructions,  declared  that  he  must  see  the 
Ambassador  that  night,  and  made  such  a  noise  and 
commotion  that  one  of  his  secretaries  went  up  to  him 
again  and  told  him. 

"  Ah  !  the  devil's  in  the  obstinate  fellow  !  "  cried 
Cobentzel. 

"  Well,  let  him  come  in." 

Without  recollecting  the  necessity  of  explaining 
matters  to  the  messenger,  the  .secretar\'  introduced 
him  into  the  room,  saying — 

"  There  is  M.  I'Ambassadeur,"  and  shut  the  door. 

An  old  lady  advanced  towards  him,  with  one  hand 
putting  a  patch  upon  her  face  and  saying  as  she  held 
out  the  other,  "  Well,  Monsieur,  let  me  see  the.se 
famous  despatches." 

The  messenger  looked  around  him  in  amazement, 
but  there  was  no  one  else  in  the  room. 


i8o  .4    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801 

"  I  want  to  see  the  Ambassador,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  here  is  the  Ambassador.  I  am  the  Ambas- 
sador," cried  the  figure,  snatching  at  the  packet  and 
pulling  with  all  its  might. 

The  messenger  thought  it  was  a  maniac,  and  keep- 
ing firm  hold  of  the  packet,  ran  to  the  door,  calling 
for  help.  The  Ambassador  ran  after  him,  trying  to 
explain,  and  then,  exclaiming,  "  Well,  you  shall  see 
him,  stupid,  your  Ambassador,"  he  rushed  into  his 
bedroom,  tore  off  the  dress,  and  came  back  in  black 
breeches,  which  made  the  rest  of  his  costume  look 
still  more  ridiculous. 

At  that  moment  the  secretary  returned,  saying 
that  the  Empress  had  arrived.  He  explained  the 
truth  to  the  messenger  and  made  him  give  up  the 
despatches  to  the  Count,  who,  when  he  had  read 
them,  found  them  to  be  so  important  that  they 
must  be  attended  to  at  once.  They  referred  to  the 
progress  of  Napoleon  in  Italy,  in  order  to  check 
which  the  treaty  now  being  arranged  between  Eng- 
land, Russia,  and  Austria  must  be  signed  and  carried 
into  execution.  Cobentzel  therefore  sent  for  Lord 
Whitworth,  the  English  Ambassador,  a  tall,  hand- 
some, stately  personage,  who  received  the  comm.uni- 
cations  made  by  Cobentzel  in  his  extraordinary  dress 
with  perfect  composure,  pointing  out  that  the  Empress 
must  not  be  ke[)t  waiting.  He  went  to  her  at  once 
and  explained  the  cause  of  the  delay,  and  it  is 
believed  that  in  her  impatience  to  hear  full  particulars 
of  what  was  indicated  to  her  by  the  English  Ambas- 
sador she  would  not  wait  any  longer,  so  the  Austrian 
Ambassador  had  to  appear  at  the  interview  in  tlic 
dress  of  the  old   Comtesse  d'Escarbaunas. 


CHAPTER  XI 
1 801-1802 

THE  theatricals  at  La  IMalmaison  usually  took 
place  on  Wednesdays,  and  there  were  generally 
forty  or  fifty  people  at  dinner  and  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  in  the  evening.  The  best  actors  of  the 
C(jinpan\',  or  troupe,  were  Hortcnse  and  Eugene  de 
Keauharnais,  Bourrienne,  Eauriston,  Lallemand,  and 
a  young  officer  called  lsabe\'.  Lucien  Buonaparte 
was  also  good. 

The  First  Consul  took  the  deepest  interest  in  these 
performances,  and  was  so  critical  and  sarcastic  that 
he  terrified  most  of  the  actors. 

General  Lallemand,  who  was  one  of  Junot's  aides- 
de-camp,  used  to  have  lessons  from  a  famous  comic 
actor  called  Michau,  a  great  favourite  with  the  public. 

"It  is  always  useful  to  be  able  to  make  people 
laugh,"  observed  Michau  one  day  ;  and  he  proceeded 
to  tell  his  hearers  that  on  one  occasion  during  the 
Terror  he  was  stopped  in  the  streets  of  Paris  b}-  one 
of  those  troops  of  ruffians  who  went  about  commit- 
ting murders  in  the  da\'s  of  what  even  to  this  da\- 
man)-  French  and  some  other  persons  of  radical 
opinions  call  la  belle  Revolution. 


i82  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

By  these  worthy  patriots  he  was  seized,  and  in 
spite  of  his  entreaties  and  remonstrances  they  were 
proceeding  to  express  their  favourite  principles  of 
"  Hberty,  equaHty,  and  fraternity  "  by  hanging  him  to 
the  pole  of  a  lamp  which  they  had  taken  down  for 
that  purpose,  when  a  baker  with  a  red,  merry  face 
rushed  into  the  midst  of  them,  caught  him  up  as  if 
he  were  a  child,  and  carried  him  away  from  them, 
exclaiming,  "  What  are  you  about,  you  fellows  ? 
Don't  you  know  \\\&  pouricJibiel  (polichinelle)  of  the 
Republic,^  then  ? "  whereupon  about  two  hundred 
ruffians  made  their  excuses  to  him  for  trying  to  hang 
him,  as  if  they  had  been  apologising  for  treading  on 
his  foot. 

An  unlucky  adventure  befell  young  Isabey,  who 
happened,  on  going  into  a  gallery  at  La  Malmaison, 
to  see  a  man  wearing  the  uniform  of  the  cJiasseurs  dc 
la  garde  whom  he  took  for  Eugene  de  Beauharnais 
(then  colonel  of  that  regiment)  looking  at  a  book  of 
engravings  lying  on  a  table  at  the  other  end.  He 
approached  very  softly,  and  when  he  had  come  close 
behind  him  without  his  being  aware  of  it  he  sprang 
with  one  bound  on  to  his  shoulders.  The  man  raised 
himself  up  and  shook  him  violently  off.  It  was  the 
First  Consul ! 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  joke  ? "  he  asked 
in  a  severe  voice. 

"  I  thought  it  was  Eugene "  stammered  Isabey. 

"  And  if  it  had  been  Eugene,  was  that  any  reason 
why  you  should  break  his  shoulders?"  returned  the 
l^^irst  Consul.     And  he  walked  out  of  the  gallery. 

The  story  got  about  by  some  indiscretion,  and  not 

'  The  C'omcdic  l""rain;ai.se  was  then  called  Thuatrc  dc  la  Kcpubliquc. 


i8oi-i8o2]  AT  XAPOLEON'S  COl'RT  1S3 

long  afterwards,  for  no  ostensible  reason,  Isabey  was 
obliged  to  leave  La  Malmaison. 

The  prosperity  of  the  country  was  growing  rapidly. 
The  numerous  balls,  dinners,  and  other  files,  with 
the  increasing  luxury-  of  dress  and  living,  gave  an 
impetus  to  trade  ;  every  one  flocked  to  the  theatre 
where  Mademoiselle  Mars  and  Talma  were  in  their 
glory.  There  was  an  exceedingly  good  Italian  opera, 
and  the  Louvre  was  filled  with  all  the  most  splendid 
statues,  bronzes,  pictures,  and  other  works  of  art, 
the  plunder  of  Italy,  and  later  on  of  Spain,  Germany, 
and  the  rest  of  Europe,  waiting  until  a  few  )-ears 
later  the  victorious  armies  of  the  Allies  should 
restore  them  to  their  lawful  owners. 

By  the  peace  of  Luneville  between  France  and 
Austria  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine  from  Holland 
to  Switzerland  was  made  the  boundary  of  France, 
the  possession  of  Venice  was  confirmed  to  Austria, 
and  that  of  Parma  and  her  other  Italian  conquests  to 
France,  to  whom  also  were  ceded  the  Ionian  Isles. 

The  joy  and  triumph  of  this  successful  treat)' 
concluded  in  February,  1801,  was,  however,  followed 
in  March  by  the  loss  of  Egypt. 

The  English  general,  the  gallant  Abercrombie,  was 
killed  in  the  battle  of  Alexandria,  but  the  French 
army  capitulated,  and  a  treaty  was  concluded  between 
the  two  nations,  which  put  an  end  for  ever  to 
Napoleon's  plans  for  making  Eg)'pt  a  stepping- 
stone  to  the  ruin  of  England. 

Xews  travelled  slowl\-  in  those  dax's  ;  and  it  was 
a  beautiful  summer's  morning  when  Laura  and  her 
husband,  knowing  nothing  of  what  had  happened, 
received  a  visit  from  Rapp,  who  .-^aid  he  had  come  to 


184  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

breakfast  with  them,  as  the  First  Consul  had  sent 
him  from  La  Malmaison  to  say  that  he  wished  to 
see  Junot  and  wanted  Laura  to  come  too  and  spend 
the  day. 

Rapp  was  in  bad  spirits,  and  said  as  they  drove 
down  that  the  First  Consul  had  certainly  received 
some  bad  news,  he  seemed  so  gloomy,  scarcely 
ate  anything,  but  pushed  away  his  chair,  threw 
down  his  serviette,  and  asked  for  three  cups  of 
coffee  in  one  hour. 

Laura  laughed,  and  said  that  very  likely  he  was 
only  out  of  temper. 

When  they  arrived  Junot  went  at  once  to  the 
First  Consul  and  remained  with  him  till  dinner-time, 
either  shut  up  in  his  study  or  walking  in  an  avenue 
in  the  garden.  Napoleon  placed  Laura  next  to  him 
at  dinner  and  began  to  talk  to  her  on  indifferent 
matters,  but  she  saw  at  once  that  something  was 
wrong.  It  was  not,  however,  until  they  returned 
to  Paris  that  Junot  could  tell  her  what  Napoleon  had 
communicated  to  him  before  it  w^as  made  public — 
the  disaster  in  Egypt. 

He  well  knew  all  the  dreams  and  aspirations  of 
which  Egypt  and  the  East  had  been  the  subject 
in  the  mind  of  Napoleon,  even  in  the  early  days 
when  they  had  wandered  about  the  boulevards  of 
Paris  together,  planning  their  future ;  and  understood 
what,  amidst  all  the  success  and  splendour  of  his 
present  position,  he  must  have  felt  when  he  said, 
"Junot,  we  have  lost  Egypt." 

It  was  the  first  serious  check  to  his  victorious 
career,  from  the  nation  he  always  regarded  as  his 
most  deadly  enemy,  and  there  appeared  to  be  some- 


i8oi-i8o2]  AT  XAPOI.EOXS   COl'RT  185 

thing  almost  prophetic  in  the  depression  and  gloom 
with  which  it  seemed  to  overshadow  his  spirits. 

The  invasion  of  England  was  always  a  favourite 
project  of  Napoleon,  and  Boulogne  was  the  head- 
ciuarters  of  the  activity  which  now  prevailed  in  the 
building  and  arming  of  numbers  of  vessels  of 
different  kinds,  while  camps  were  pitched  on  the 
coast  of  the  channel  at  this  and  other  places.  One 
night  as  the  French  flotilla  lay  at  anchor  near  the 
shore  it  was  suddenly  attacked  by  Nelson,  whose 
intention  was  to  cut  it  off  by  getting  in  between 
it  and  the  land.  Although,  owing  to  the  protection 
given  to  the  French  flotilla  by  the  forts  and  batteries 
close  at  hand,  this  plan  was  frustrated  and  the 
English  fleet  sustained  heavy  losses,  Nelson  gained 
a  victory,  which  still  further  exasperated  Napoleon. 

The  autumn  and  early  winter  passed  away  ;  it  was 
the  5th  of  January,  and  Laura  was  daily  expecting 
the  birth  of  her  child.  The  weather  was  so  cold 
and  the  streets  so  slippery  that  Madame  Permon, 
who  was  now  too  great  an  invalid  to  come  to  her 
daughter,  had  forbidden  her  to  go  out  ;  therefore  their 
only  communications  were  the  letters  they  wrote 
every  day  to  each  other.  Junot's  mother,  who  was 
very  fond  of  Laura,  had  come  to  stay  and  take  care 
of  her,  and  on  the  evening  of  this  day  they  were  giving 
a  supper-party  to  General  Suchet  and  some  other 
friends  to  celebrate  the  first  da}'s  of  the  New  Year. 
Every  one  drank  Laura's  health  in  champagne,  and 
she  rose  to  return  the  compliment  with  a  glass 
of  water  in  her  hand  ;  for  it  was  a  singular  thing 
that  while  Laura  could  never  bear  to  touch  wine 
of   any    kind,   Junot    had    a   sort   of  aversion,   which 


i86  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801-1S02 

he  could  never  explain,  to  seeing  women  drink 
it.  So  strong  was  this  unreasonable  fancy  (for  he 
always  drank  it  himself)  that  he  told  Laura  that 
if  he  had  seen  her  drink  wine  he  should  not  have 
married  her. 

"  Well,  but,"  said  she,  laughing,  when  he  told  her 

this,  "  what  about  Madame  M ,  who  used,  I  am 

told,  to  drink  a  bottle  of  champagne  and  half  a 
bottle  of  Madeira  at  dinner  and  supper?  It  is 
said  that  you  loved  her." 

"  Oh  !  what  does  that  matter  ?  "  replied  he,  laughing 
also.  "  A  mistress  counts  for  nothing  in  a  man's 
life.  What  does  he  care  for  her  faults  or  virtues, 
so  long  as  she  is  pretty,  which  is  all  he  wants  ?  " 

As  Laura  stood  at  the  head  of  her  table  with 
her  glass  of  water,  amongst  the  laughter  and  com- 
pliments of  the  sixteen  or  seventeen  people  present, 
a  sudden  and  terrible  pain  made  her  sink  back 
with  a  cry  into  her  seat,  while  the  glass  dropped 
from  her  hand  and  she  closed  her  eyes.  When 
she  opened  them  again  she  saw  Junot,  white  with 
fear,  his  glass  still  in  his  hand,  and  everybody 
else  looking  at  her  in  consternation.  With  the 
courage  of  Jeanne  d'Albret  at  the  birth  of  Henri  IV. 
she  tried  to  resume  the  talk  and  laughter  that  had 
been  interrupted,  but  it  was  useless.  There  was  an 
end  of  the  supper-party.  Her  mother-in-law  took 
her  away  into  her  own  room,  Junot  hurried  off  to 
send  for  Marchais,  a  famous  doctor  of  the  day,  and 
all  night  long  she  lay  between  life  and  death. 

The  next  morning  Junot  became  so  frightened 
and  miserable  that  he  could  not  endure  to  stay 
in    the  house    any    longer.     He  seized    his   hat,    ran 


i8oi-i8o2]  AT   X.lPiV.KOXS   COCRT  1S7 

downstairs  into  the  street,  and  did  not  stop  until 
he  got  to  the  Tuileries.  He  rushed  upstairs  into  the 
ante-chamber  of  Napoleon,  where  several  of  his 
friends  were  standing,  who  exclaimed  in  astonish- 
ment, "  Good  God  !  Junot,  what  is  the  matter?" 

Junot  asked  onl\'  for  the  First  Consul,  who  received 
him  with  great  kindness  and  sympathy.  "  My  old 
friend,"  he  said,  pressing  his  hand,  "  you  have  done 
well  to  come  to  me  at  this  time."  He  sent  a 
messenger  immediately  to  inc[uire  for  Madame  Junot, 
walking  up  and  down  the  gallery  with  Junot  and 
tr\-ing  to  comfort  him  until  the  news  was  brought 
that  a  daughter  was  born  and  that  Laura's  danger 
was  over. 

Junot  returned  home,  enchanted  with  his  child  and 
at  the  favourable  turn  things  had  taken,  the  only 
drawback  being  that  his  father,  old  M.  Junot, 
had  made  himself  disagreeable  as  usual,  and  when  he 
heard  that  the  child  was  a  girl,  having  set  his  mind 
on  having  a  grandson,  he  made  such  a  grumbling 
and  became  so  ill-tempered  that  Laura  was  very 
nearly  made  ill,  the  doctor  was  furious  and  so  was 
his  wife,  who  dro\e  him  away  in  a  torrent  of  in- 
dignation, and  told  Junot  that  she  had  "arranged" 
his  father,  and  she  did  not  think  he  would  ever 
behave  so  again. 

For  some  time  the  First  Consul  had  resolved  to  re- 
establish religion  in  F'rance,  and  now,  the  concordat 
upon  ecclesiastical  affairs  having  been  signed  by  the 
Pope  and  the  Consuls,  he  resolved  that  a  grand 
service  should  be  held  to  celebrate  its  promulgation. 
Accordingl)-  on  Easter  Sunday  a  great  festival 
was  organised  at  Notre  Dame   (1802). 


i88   ■  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

For  the  first  time  the  household  of  the  First 
Consul  wore  liveries,  and  besides  her  four  dames  de 
compagnie,  sixty  or  eighty  wives  of  the  chief  officers 
and  functionaries  were  chosen  to  accompany 
Josephine,  amongst  whom,  of  course,  was  Laura. 

At  half-past  ten  an  immense  procession  left  the 
Tuileries  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame  was  crowded 
with  women  in  splendid  toilettes,  and  men  in 
uniform,  and  the  gorgeousness  of  the  newly  restored 
ceremonial,  the  holy  chants  and  sacred  music 
mingling  with  salvos  of  artillery,  tramp  of  cavalry, 
and  clash  of  swords,  made  a  strong  impression 
upon  the  spectators  who  thronged  the  church  and 
streets. 

The  fanatical  Republicans  and  enemies  of  religion 
were  furious,  and  one  of  them.  General  Delmas,  when 
asked  by  the  First  Consul  how  he  liked  the  ceremony, 
replied — 

"  It's  a  fine  mummery  enough.  To  make  it  better 
still  you  only  want  the  million  of  men  who  gave 
their  blood  to  destro)-  what  you  have  just  re- 
established." 

Napoleon  was  very  angry  with  this  answer,  in 
which  he  said  there  was  as  little  sense  as  good 
taste,  what  so  man}'  men  had  given  their  lives  to 
destroy  not  being  religion  at  all,  but  the  aiicicn 
regime,  which  was  a  very  different  thing  ;  and  although 
he  now  created  nine  archbishops  and  forty-seven 
bishops,  of  whom  Laura's  uncle  was  one,'  they  only 
received  small  salaries  instead  of  the  magnificent 
property  lost  for  ever  in  the  Revolution. 

A  terrible  calamity  soon  afterwards  befell    Laura 

'  Bishop  of  Metz. 


i<Soi-i8o2]  AT  WlPOLEONS   COURT  iH() 

and  Albert  in  the  death  of  the  mother  they  both 
adored.  Madame  Permon's  ilhiess  had  so  much  in- 
creased latter!)',  and  her  sufferings  were  so  great, 
that  when  the  end  came  their  grief  was  minglerl 
with  feelings  of  relief  that  she  was  at  rest. 

Junot,  who  had  been  e.\treme!\'  attached  to  his 
mother-in-law,  arranged  the  funeral  with  great 
sjjlendour.  Man)'  accused  him  of  ostentation  and 
extravagance  in  this  matter,  but  Laura  only  saw 
in  the  arms  of  the  Comneni,  richly  embroidered  and 
thrown  over  the  coffin,  the  three  hundred  poor  people 
dressed  in  mourning  following  with  tears  and  prayers 
and  all  the  pomp  of  the  ceremonial,  the  respect  and 
affection  her  husband  had  borne  to  her  mother  and 
his  love  for  herself. 

Albert,  at  the  time  of  his  mother's  death,  was 
at  Marseilles,  where  he  held  the  post  of  com- 
missioner of  police.  Laura,  knowing  the  grief  he 
would  suffer,  was  very  anxious  to  go  to  him,  as  he 
could  not  leave  his  duties,  but  she  had  not  sufficiently 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  her  confinement  to  be 
able  to  undertake  the  journey. 


CHAPTER   XII 

1801-1802 

THE  First  Consul  was  much  affected  by  the 
death  of  Madame  Permon,  and  sent  Laura 
many  kind  messages  by  Junot.  Josephine  came  to 
see  her,  accompanied  by  Lucien,  who  had  ahvays 
been  Madame  Permon's  favourite.  He  had  just 
returned  from  Spain,  and  the  sight  of  him  seemed 
to  renew  Laura's  grief 

Madame  Leclerc  was  no  longer  in  France, 
Napoleon  having  insisted  on  her  accompanying  her 
husband  to  St.  Domingo,  some  time  before. 

She  had  made  a  most  ridiculous  scene  when 
Laura  went  to  see  her  after  her  departure  was 
decided  upon,  throwing  herself  into  her  arms  and 
complaining  of  the  cruelty  of  her  brother,  who  was 
sending  her  into  exile  amongst  savages  and  serpents; 
crying  and  sobbing,  declaring  that  she  should  die 
before  she  arrived  there,  and  then,  when  Laura 
consoled  her  as  one  might  a  child  or  an  idiot,  by 
telling  her  what  pretty  clothes  she  would  wear  there 
and  how  she  would  be  queen  of  the  island,  she  rang 
for  her  maid  and  ordered  her  to  bring  all  her  scarfs 

and  India  muslins  to  look  at  and  choose  from. 

190 


i8oi-i8o2] 


A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY 


l(;l 


Then  she  declared  she  would  ask  her  brother  to 
send  Laura  with  her  Talthoui^h  it  was  only  about  a 
month  before  her  confinement),  that  Junot  could  go 
too  and  be  governor  there  instead  of  Commandant  of 


#^'iit^. 


W'-^-  ^* 


PAfLIXE    UUOXAPARTE.    PRINCESS   BORGHESE. 

(Belliard.) 


Paris,  and  that  they  would  take  Madame  Permon  (who 
was  unable  to  leave  her  bed  from  illness).  Just  as 
Laura,  disgusted  by  her  selfish  folly,  had  got  up  to 
take  leave,  thinking  that  perhaps  she  would  not  be 


192  .-I    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

able  to  help  giving  vent  to  her  indignation,  Junot 
was  announced,  and  turning  eagerly  to  him,  Pauline 
poured  forth  her  new  plans,  which  he  received  with 
shouts  of  laughter,  much  to  her  surprise.  Finding 
he  would  not  treat  the  idea  seriously,  she  began  to 
cry  again,  saying  she  had  always  loved  Laurette  like 
a  sister  (which,  as  Laura  afterwards  remarked,  was 
not  saying  much),  and  ending  with — 

"  Ah  !  you  would  not  have  made  all  those 
reflections  when  we  were  at  Marseilles  !  You  would 
not  have  coolly  allowed  me  to  go  away  to  be  eaten 
up,  or  whatever  may  become  of  me  in  that  savage 
country.  And  I  have  told  Laurette  so  often  of  your 
attachment  to  me  !  " 

To  reason  with  such  a  person  was  of  course 
impossible.  Junot  and  Laura  could  do  nothing  but 
laugh,  and  offer  her  whatever  consolations  they 
thought  suitable.  The  First  Consul,  when  they  told 
him  of  it,  laughed  too,  but  knew  his  sister  well  enough 
not  to  be  surprised.  A  day  or  two  afterwards  he 
said  to  Junot,  "  I  am  very  sorry  you  want  to  go  to 
St.  Domingo,  for  you  will  not  go.     I  want  you  here." 

When  she  was  in  St.  Domingo,  however,  Pauline 
behaved  very  well  ;  she  had  plenty  of  courage,  and 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  her  anticipations 
of  danger.  The  rebellion  of  the  negroes  under  the 
ferocious  Christophe  and  Dessalines  broke  out, 
fearful  atrocities  were  committed,  and  in  September, 
1802,  a  furious  horde  of  twelve  thousand  blacks 
poured  down  to  besiege  Cap,  the  chief  town,  which 
was  only  defended  by  one  thousand  soldiers,  many 
of  whom  were  down  with  fever.  Pauline,  her  little 
son,  and  a  number  of  ladies  who  had  taken    refuge 


i8oi-i8o2]  AT  X.irOLEON'S   COURT  i()3 

with  her,  were  in  her  liouse  near  the  seashore,  in- 
(lifferentl)'  defended  by  a  company  of  artiller)-  under 
tlie  command  of  a  friend  of  her  husband's.  General 
Leclerc,  considering  the  house  unsafe,  and  feeHng 
uncertain  as  to  the  result  of  the  battle  he  was  waging 
against  the  negroes,  sent  orders  to  put  his  wife  and 
child  on  board  ship,  the  French  fleet  being  near  at 
hand.  Nothing  would  induce  her  to  fly,  and  when 
the  terrified  ladies  about  her  urged  her  to  escape,  and 
described  the  horrible  fate  of  women  who  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  negroes,  she  only  said,  "  You  can 
go  if  you  like.  You  are  not  the  sister  of  Buona- 
parte." 

The  danger  increased  every  moment,  and  General 
Leclerc  sent  an  aide-de-camp  with  orders  to  carry  her 
away  by  force  if  she  would  not  go.  She  was  accord- 
ingly placed  in  an  armchair  and  carried  b\'  four 
soldiers,  a  grenadier  walking  by  her  side  carrying  the 
child.  The  escort  was  attacked  by  the  blacks,  who 
were  put  to  flight,  but  just  as  they  were  embarking 
the  news  came  that  the  French  were  victorious. 

"  You  see,"  said  Pauline  as  she  was  carried  back  to 
the  hou.se,  "  I  was  quite  right  in  not  wanting  to  go." 

Napoleon  was  very  much  pleased  when  the  stor)' 
was  told  him.  Pauline  was  his  favourite  sister,  and 
he  was  perfectly  blind  to  the  intrigues  she  carried 
on,  never  believing  that  her  diversions  went  be\'ond 
vanity  and  flirtation. 

The  fact  was,  however,  that  her  love  affairs  were 
many  and  various.  At  the  time  of  her  departure  for 
St.  Domingo  the  object  of  her  aflections  was  sup- 
posed to  be  Lafon,  an  actor  at  the  Theatre  Francais, 
and  it  was  said   that   Mademoiselle   Duchesnes,  the 

u 


194  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

actress,  on  hearing  Pauline's  departure  announced, 
indiscreetly  exclaimed  before  a  roomful  of  people, 
"  Lafon  will  be  inconsolable  ;  it  will  kill  him  !  " 

Her  way  of  going  on  made  her  husband's  life 
miserable,  and  yet  he  was  a  man  of  kind  and  gentle 
disposition,  devotedly  in  love  with  her,  and  she  had 
married  him  for  love,  or  what  she  understood  by  that 
expression.  But  she  was  an  incarnation  of  the  most 
astounding  folly,  vanity,  and  selfishness,  without  the 
capability  of  either  love  or  affection  for  any  one  but 
herself  If  she  cared  for  anybody  it  was  for  Napo- 
leon. As  to  her  husband,  she  tormented  him  with 
her  infidelities,  caprices,  and  humours,  and  then,  when 
he  died  in  St.  Domingo,  she  gave  way  to  paroxysms 
of  grief  and  cut  off  all  her  hair  to  show  her  sorrow. 
But  Napoleon,  when  told  of  it,  remarked  that  she 
knew  well  enough  that  her  hair  would  grow  again  all 
the  better  in  consequence. 

To  other  people  Napoleon  was  neither  so  blind  nor 
so  lenient.  He  persisted,  in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of 
Josephine,  in  dismissing  one  of  her  maids,  a  young 
girl  of  whom  she  was  very  fond,  because  two  of  his 
aides-de-camp  had  fallen  in  love  with  her,  although 
she  had  given  no  encouragement  to  their  attentions. 
In  reply  to  all  remonstrances  he  only  repeated  :  "  Je 
ne  veux  pas  de  scandale  chez-moi  ;  point  de  desordre." 

Having  taken  a  violent  fancy  to  a  young  married 
woman  of  his  Court,  and  being  careful  to  conceal  from 
Josephine  the  intrigue  he  was  carrying  on  with  her, 
he  used  to  wait  until  every  one  in  the  chateau  was 
asleep,  and  then  go  softly  to  her  apartment  without 
his  shoes.  His  first  valct-dc-chajubrc,  Constant,  was 
always  anxious  lest  the  affair  should  be  discovered, 


i8oi-i8o2]  AT  NAPOLEOX'S  COrRT  195 

and  on  one  occasion  the  day  betjan  to  dawn  and  still 
Napoleon  had  not  returned. 

Constant  awoke  the  maid  and  sent  her  to  knock  at 
her  mistress's  door  and  say  what  time  it  was,  accord- 
ing to  the  directions  given  him  by  Napoleon  should 
such  a  case  arise.  Napoleon  appeared  in  a  few 
minutes,  greatly  agitated,  saying  that  he  had  seen 
one  of  Josephine's  maids  watching  him  through  a 
window  that  looked  into  the  corridor.  As  Josephine's 
suspicions  and  jealousy  had  already  been  aroused  by 
this  affair,  he  was  very  angry  and  sent  Constant  to 
the  maid  ordering  her  to  be  silent  and  never  to  spy 
any  more  after  him,  unless  she  wanted  to  be  sent 
awa)'  immediately  ;  after  which  he  desired  Constant 
to  take  a  little  house  for  him  in  which  he  and 
Madame  could  meet  in  safety. 

In  February,  1S02,  j^eace  with  England  was  signed, 
and  the  treat}'  of  Amiens  confirmed  to  France  the 
possession  of  Flanders,  Brabant,  and  Belgium,  besides 
which  she  had  seized  all  the  German  territory  on  the 
left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  Avignon,  Savoy,  Geneva, 
Basel,  and  Nice.  Lombardy,  Genoa  and  Tuscany  had 
submitted  to  her,  and  in  America  she  had  gained 
the  colonies  of  Louisiana  and  Guiana. 

With  her  whole  heart  and  soul  Laura  shared  in  the 
delirium  of  joy  and  triumph  which  seemed  to  intoxi- 
cate the  nation  during  those  few  brilliant  years,  and 
in  the  hatred  of  England,  the  most  formidable 
enemy  of  France,  whom  she  had  beaten  in  India,  in 
Egypt,  and  at  sea,  having  since  1793  destroyed  or 
captured  six  hundred  and  fifty  French  ships  and 
seventy-five  thousand  sailors. 

After  peace  was  signed    foreigners  of   all  nations 


196  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

flocked  to  Paris,  which  soon  became  so  full  that  the 
most  indifferent  hotels  and  lodgings  commanded 
enormous  prices. 

Russians  and  English  were  the  most  numerous 
and  distinguished  amongst  the  arrivals,  and  as  Com- 
mandant of  Paris  Junot  entertained  all  those  illus- 
trious personages  whose  presence  made  the  capital 
more  prosperous  and  brilliant  than  before. 

Laura's  second  daughter,  Constance,  was  born  in 
May  of  this  year. 

As  the  enmity  of  Junot  and  his  wife  against 
England  was  merely  political  and  national,  it  did 
not  enter  much  into  their  social  life,  nor  prevent 
their  making  many  intimate  friendships  with  English, 
as  well  as  other  foreigners. 

Amongst  these  were  the  Duchess  of  Gordon  and 
her  youngest  daughter,  Lady  Georgina,  Countess 
Diwoff,  Prince  George  Galitzin,  the  Austrian  Ambas- 
sador, Count  Philippe  de  Cobentzel,  the  Marquis  of 
Hertford  (then  Lord  Yarmouth),  Princess  Demidoff, 
Countess  Lisbeth  von  Blumenthal,  and  Mr.  Fox,  who, 
as  the  opponent  of  Pitt  and  friend  of  France  and  the 
Revolution,  was  regarded  by  that  portion  of  French 
society  with  the  same  delighted  approbation  as  was 
lately  bestowed  upon  the  pro-Boers  by  the  enemies  of 
England. 

But  on  one  occasion  when  he  was  dining  with 
Junot  the  conversation  turned  upon  recent  events  in 
Egypt,  and  some  of  those  present  began  to  indulge 
in  reflections  on  England  and  abuse  of  Pitt,  in  which 
a  certain  Colonel  Green,  a  great  friend  of  Junot  and 
a  fanatical  admirer  of  Napoleon,  permitted  himself  to 
join. 


i8oi-i8o2]  .17'  XAPOLEOX'S  COURT  197 

At  once  Fox  changed  countenance,  and,  as  Laura 
afterwards  observed,  it  was  no  longer  the  Opposition 
leader,  but  the  countr\'man  and  brother  of  Pitt,  who 
defended  him  with  all  the  force  and  fire  of  his  elo- 
cjucnce,  casting  at  the  same  time  an  indignant  look 
upon  Colonel  Green. 

Struck  with  shame,  the  latter  was  instantly  silent, 
and  rising  from  his  seat,  came  round  the  table  and 
shook  hands  warmly  with  Fo.x,  whose  conduct  in 
this  matter  won  the  respect  and  admiration  of  those 
present. 

A  characteristic  stor\'  was  told  of  him  at  Paris  at 
that  time.  A  creditor  of  his  had  called  repeatedly 
with  a  bill  of  three  hundred  guineas,  which  it  seemed 
impossible  to  induce  him  to  pay.  One  morning,  after 
receiving  the  usual  answer  from  his  valet,  that  Mr. 
Fo.x  had  no  money  and  could  not  see  him,  the 
creditor,  who  had  lost  patience,  pushed  past  the 
servant,  opened  a  door,  and  found  himself  in  the 
presence  of  his  debtor,  who  was  sitting  at  a  table 
counting  out  and  making  into  rouleaux  several 
hundred  pounds. 

"It  seems  to  me,  sir,"  began  the  creditor,  "that 
there  is  no  impossibility  whatever  in  your  paying 
your  debt  to  me.  I  am  delighted  to  see  that  your 
circumstances  are  so  much  better  than  I  was  given  to 
understand  by  your  valet?" 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  replied  P'ox  ;  "  I  have  not  ten 
guineas  at  my  disposal.  You  must  wait  till  a  better 
opportunity." 

"  You  are  joking,  sir,"  said  the  man,  pointing  to  the 
table. 

"  That  money  is  not  mine,"  answered  Fo.k  ;  "  it  must 


198  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

all  go  before  midday  to  pay  a  debt  of  honour,  which 
is  sacred." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  doubt  whether  this  creditor  of  yours 
has  a  prior  right  to  mine.  Remember  that  I  lent  you 
this  money  without  interest  more  than  three  years  ago." 
"  Oh,  no  !  "  cried  Fox,  laughing,  "  his  is  not  nearly 
such  an  old  debt  as  yours  ;  in  fact,  I  only  incurred  it 
a  few  hours  ago  ;  but  it  is  a  debt  of  honour,  which, 
you  know,  must  always  be  paid  within  twenty-four 
hours." 

Then,  seeing  that  the  man  did  not  understand  the 
meaning  of  a  debt  of  honour,  he  proceeded  to 
explain. 

"  Last  night  I  lost  eight  hundred  guineas  to  Sheri- 
dan, for  which  he  has  no  guarantee  but  my  word  of 
honour.  If  anything  happened  to  me  before  he  got 
his  money,  what  proof  would  he  have  ?  You,  at  least, 
hold  my  signature,  which  my  family  would  not 
dispute." 

The  man's  face  fell. 

"  And  so,"  he  said,  "  it  is  because  your  name  is 
upon  the  bill  I  hold  that  you  do  not  pay  it?  Very 
well,"  he  continued,  tearing  it  to  pieces,  "  now  my 
debt  is  a  debt  of  honour  too,  for  I  have  no  guarantee 
but  yours,  and  I  have  a  prior  claim  over  your  creditor 
of  last  night." 

Fox  turned  to  the  table,  from  which  he  took  three 
hundred  guineas,  which  he  gave  to  the  creditor, 
saying — 

"  Thank  you  for  having  trusted  me.  Here  is  your 
money.     Sheridan  must  wait  for  the  rest  of  his." 

The  First  Consul  disliked  foreigners,  and  at  this 
time  was  much  irritated  by  the  numerous  flirtations 


i8oi-i8o2]  .17-   XAI'OLEOS'S   COURT  u)*) 

they  carried  on  with  the  wives  and  daughters  of  his 
generals. 

The  A'/t'  of  the  14th  July,  celebrating  the  idiotic 
destruction  of  a  curious  and  interesting  historical 
building,  being  about  to  take  place,  he  said  to  his 
wife,  "Josephine,  I  am  going  to  desire  you  to  do 
something  \'ou  will  like.  I  want  you  to  be  very  mag- 
nificent. Make  all  )-our  preparations.  As  for  me,  I 
shall  wear  my  splendid  dress  of  crimson  silk  embroi- 
dered with  gold,  that  the  city  of  Lyon  gave  me,  and 
I  shall  be  superb." 

Laura  laughed,  for  she  recollected  having  thought 
Napoleon  looked  most  absurd  in  that  dress. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  mean  by  that  mocking  smile, 
Madame  Junot?  You  think  I  shall  not  look  so  well 
as  all  your  good-looking  English  and  Russians  who 
make  love  to  you  and  turn  your  young  heads  ?  It's 
all  prejudice.  I  assure  you  that  I  am  just  as  agree- 
able as  that  puppy  the  English  Colonel.  They  say 
he  is  the  handsomest  man  in  England  ;  to  me  he 
seems  like  the  king  of  fops." 

Speaking  of  another  man  whose  part  Josephine 
was  taking,  Napoleon  replied  to  her  remark  that  he 
had  talents. 

"  What  talents?  De  r esprit  ?  Brrh  !  who  has  not — 
to  that  extent  ?  He  sings  well !  A  fine  quality  for 
a  soldier,  whose  profession  always  makes  him  hoarse ! 
Ah  !  he  is  good-looking,  that  is  what  touches  you 
women  !  Well,  I  don't  see  anything  at  all  extraordi- 
nary about  him  ;    he  is  just   like  a  field-spider  with 

those  everlasting  legs.      It  is  not  natural "  and  he 

looked  at  his  own  legs,  while  Laura  could  not  control 
her  merriment. 


2O0  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1801-1802 

"  Well,  little  pest,  what  is  there  to  laugh  at  ?  You 
are  laughing  at  my  legs.  You  don't  find  them  good 
enough  to  figure  in  a  contre-daiisc,  like  those  of  your 
elegant  friend.  But,  at  any  rate,  one  can  sing  and 
dance  without  being  a  puppy.  Look  here,  Madame 
Junot,  tell  me  if  Talleyrand's  nephew  is  not  a  nice 
fellow  ?  " 

Laura  cordially  agreed,  for  he  spoke  of  Louis  de 
Perigord,  the  son  of  her  old  friend,  one  of  the  fau- 
bourg St.  Geruiain,  who  served  with  distinction  in  the 
armies  of  the  Republic. 

Since  the  concordat,  several  children  to  whom 
the  First  Consul  had  promised  to  be  godfather 
were  waiting  to  receive  public  baptism,  and  amongst 
them  was  Laura's  little  daughter.  Napoleon  never 
chose  to  have  as  comuierc  any  one  but  his  wife, 
his  mother,  or  Madame  Louis  Buonaparte.  On 
this  occasion  he  and  Josephine  were  the  sponsors 
of  the  child,  who  was  named  after  the  latter. 
Another  of  the  children  now  to  be  christened  at  St. 
Cloud  by  the  Cardinal  Caprara  was  the  son  of 
General  Lannes,  who  was  to  be  named  Napoleon. 
None  of  the  mothers  were  twenty  years  old. 

Laura  stood  holding  in  her  arms  her  child,  who 
was  fifteen  months  old,  very  pretty,  and  very  much 
frightened  at  the  Cardinal,  the  chapter,  the  crowd  of 
people,  and  the  whole  scene.  Napoleon  turned  when 
the  right  moment  arrived,  saying — 

"  (jive  me  your  daughter,  Madame  Junot." 

But  the  baby  cried,  clung  round  her  mother's  neck, 
and  refused  to  go  to  him. 

"  What  a  little  devil !  "  exclaimed  Napoleon.  "  Ah! 
^v?,  will  you  come  to  me,  Mademoiselle  Demon  ?  " 


i8oi-i8o2]  .If  X.U'OLEOX'S  COUNT  201 

"/e  ne  veux  pas  ! "  replied  the  baby,  looking 
angrily  at  the  First  Consul  ;  but  just  then,  catching 
sight  of  the  Cardinal's  biretta,  she  was  so  pleased 
with  it  that  she  left  off  cr)ing,  allowed  Napoleon  to 
take  her,  and  sat  contentedly  in  his  arms  with  her 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  object  of  her  admiration,  onl\' 
rubbing  her  face  vigorous!)'  every  time  he  kissed  her. 
But  when  the  Cardinal  approached  nearer  she  sud- 
denly stretched  out  her  arm,  and  with  a  shout  of 
triumph  snatched  the  biretta  from  his  head,  to  the 
diversion  and  consternation  of  all  present. 

"Oh, pour  ce/a,  my  child!"  cried  the  First  Consul 
as  soon  as  he  could  restrain  his  laughter,  "  you  must 
not  do  that.  Give  me  that  plaything  ;  for  it  is  a  toy 
like  many  others,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  Cardinal. 

It  was  only  by  force  that  the  biretta  was  taken 
from  the  little  Josephine,  who  tried  to  put  it  on  her 
own  head,  then  on  that  of  her  godfather,  and  when  it 
was  returned  to  its  lawful  owner,  burst  into  a  passion 
of  tears  and  cries. 

"  She  is  a  real  demon,  your  daughter,"  said 
Napoleon,  as  he  gave  her  back  to  her  mother  ;  "  but 
she  is  very  pretty,  ver}'  pretty  indeed  !  She  is  my 
goddaughter,  my  dauglitci-.  I  hope  you  will  remember 
that,  Junot,"  he  added,  as  he  shook  hands  with  his 
old  comrade. 

The  following  day  Laura  received  from  Josephine 
a  splendid  pearl  necklace,  and  from  Napoleon  the 
title  deeds  of  an  JuHcl,  Rue  des  Champs-EIysees.  It 
had  cost  200,000  francs. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

1 802- 1 804 

IN  the  spring  of  1802  the  Consulate  of  Napoleon 
had  been  by  the  Senatus-Consulte  prolonged  for 
ten  years  beyond  those  originally  decreed  in  1799. 
It  was  the  first  step  to  the  Consulship  for  life  and  the 
Empire. 

Junot,  like  all  the  enthusiastic  followers  of  the 
First  Consul,  was  delighted  at  this,  and  proposed 
to  his  wife  to  celebrate  the  event  by  a  dejeuner  in 
their  new  house  in  the  Champs-Elysees,  to  be  given 
at  once,  without  waiting  to  furnish  it,  and  which  the 
First  Consul  and  Madame  Buonaparte  were  to  be 
asked  to  honour  with  their  presence. 

Laura  accordingly  went  to  the  Tuileries  to  carry 
her  invitation  to  Josephine,  who  received  it  with  her 
usual  kindness. 

"  Have  you  spoken  of  it  to  Buonaparte  ? "  she 
inquired  ;  and  on  hearing  that  Junot  had  gone  to  the 
First  Consul  she  added,  "  We  must  wait  for  his 
answer,  for  you  know  I  cannot  accept  any  fete  or 
dinner  without  his  express  permission,"  for  Napoleon, 
knowing  that  Josephine,  in  the  carelessness  and  kind- 
ness of  her  heart,  would  accept  invitations  in  rather 


1802-1804]  .1    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  203 

an  indiscriminate  manner,  had  forbidden  any  engage- 
ments to  be  made  without  his  leave.  Napoleon, 
however,  promised  to  be  at  this  dcjcnncr,  but  made 
the  absurd  stipulation  that  there  should  be  present 
twenty-five  women  and  no  men  at  all  except  himself, 
Junot,  and  Duroc. 

The  party  was  composed  almost  entirely  of  the 
young  wives  of  his  generals,  most  of  whom  were 
good-looking.  Josephine  was  there,  her  daughter, 
and  the  two  sisters  of  Napoleon,  Elisa  and  Caroline, 
who  were  then  in  France.  Besides  the  men  allowed 
by  the  First  Consul,  they  persuaded  him  to  permit 
General  Suchet  and  his  brother  to  be  amongst  the 
guests. 

The  party  was  amusing  enough,  and  after  the 
dejeuner  Madame  Buonaparte  went  all  over  the 
house,  insisting  upon  going  into  every  room.  She 
then  proposed  that  they  should  go  to  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne,  where  accordingly  they  proceeded  in  a 
long  procession  of  carriages,  so  that,  as  Laura 
remarked,  if  they  had  only  had  more  men  with 
them  they  would  have  looked  like  a  bourgeois 
lendeinain  de  nocc.  She  drove  with  Madame 
Buonaparte,  who  talked  long  and  sympathetically 
with  her,  finishing  by  saying  that  the  First  Consul 
had  observed  that  it  was  not  sufficient  to  give  them  a 
house  without  making  it  habitable,  and  had  desired 
her  to  tell  Laura  that  the  sum  of  100,000  francs  was 
placed  at  the  disposition  of  Junot  and  herself  to 
furnish  it  in  a  suitable  manner. 

The  next  fete  given  by  Laura  in  her  new  house 
was  a  brilliant  ball,  at  which  Napoleon,  with  Josephine 
and  other  members  of  his  family,  were  present.     He 


204  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1802-1804 

desired  to  be  shown  all  the  house  from  garrets  to 
cellars,  and  remained  at  the  ball  until  one  o'clock, 
which  for  him  was  an  unusually  late  hour. 

Josephine  wore  a  dress  embroidered  with  silver, 
vine  leaves  and  grapes  trailing  over  it  and  in  her 
hair ;  necklace,  earrings,  and  bracelets  of  pearls. 
Hortense,  dressed  in  pink  and  silver  and  crowned 
with  roses,  was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  ball,  and 
seemed  amidst  the  admiration  and  popularity  with 
which  she  was  surrounded  to  forget  the  unhappiness 
of  the  loveless  marriage  to  which  she  had  been  con- 
demned by  the  interest  of  her  mother  and  the 
tyranny  of  her  stepfather. 

Laura  entered  with  eager  delight  into  this  life  of 
splendour  and  excitement.  At  an  age  at  which  we 
are  accustomed  to  see  young  girls  just  set  free  from 
the  schoolroom,  she  had  already  been  for  two  years 
the  wife  of  the  Commandant  of  Paris  and  one  of 
the  leaders  of  French  society.  She  was  a  special 
favourite  of  Napoleon  and  his  family,  and  her  sa/on 
was  frequented  by  the  most  illustrious  personages 
who  visited  the  capital. 

Laura  was  essentially  a  woman  of  the  world. 
Brought  up  from  earliest  childhood  in  the  sa/on  of  her 
mother,  she  had  inherited  from  her  not  merely  her 
social  qualities,  but  also  that  boundless  extravagance 
which  far  exceeded  the  lavish  hospitality  and  magni- 
ficence with  which  the  First  Consul  required  the 
Commandant  of  Paris  to  entertain.  Neither  she  nor 
Junot  seem  to  have  had  any  idea  of  the  management 
of  money  ;  it  flowed  like  water  through  their  hands. 

But  these  years  of  brilliant  success  and  prosperity 
were  very  nearly  brought  to  a  sudden  close  during 


1802-1804]  AT  XAPOLEOyS  COURT  205 

this    very    summer    bj'    an    act    of   childish   folly  on 
Laura's  part. 

She   and   Junot   possessed    a    small    estate  called 
Bievre,  about    twelve    miles    from    Paris,    where  she 


HORTEXSE   riE   nEAlHAKXAIS,   DAUGHTER   OF  JOSEI'HIXE,   ANT)   WIFE  OF 
I.OUIS   mOXAPARTE.    KINC,    OF    HOLLAND. 

( Iklliai d.  I 

delighted  to  pass  as  much  time  as  she  could  in  the 
hot  weather.  The  house  was  not  large,  but  it  stood 
in  a  green,  shady  valley  amongst  woods  that  seemed 
to  join  the  park,  which,  though  small,  was  well 
planted  with  forest  trees. 


2o6  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIErV  [1802-1804 

Laura  was  devoted  to  this  place,  which  she  declared 
was  like  a  Swiss  valley,  just  as  many  people  say  that 
Amsterdam  is  like  Venice  because  in  both  you  see 
boats  and  water ;  and  who  cannot  see  a  pretty  view 
in  England  without  comparing  it  to  the  Alps  or  the 
Bay  of  Naples,  or  something  else  equally  prepos- 
terous. And  her  descriptions  of  it  excited  the  wish 
of  Caroline  Buonaparte,  then  Madame  Murat,  to  see 
the  place.  Laura  and  Caroline  Murat  were  at  that 
time  extremely  intimate,  and  it  was  arranged  that 
she  and  Murat  should  go  down  to  Bievre,  and,  as 
Junot  had  leave  to  shoot  as  much  as  he  liked  in  the 
woods  around,  they  should  start  early  on  the  morning 
of  their  arrival,  Laura  and  Caroline  following  the 
cJiasse  in  a  carriage,  and  that  they  should  lunch  and 
spend  the  whole  day  in  the  woods. 

At  that  time  in  France  riding  and  driving  were 
rather  unusual  accomplishments  for  a  woman.  Laura 
could  neither  ride  nor  drive,  and  Junot,  terrified  at 
the  chance  of  any  accident  happening  to  her,  refused 
to  allow  her  to  learn. 

Her  drives  were  nearly  always,  as  was  the  general 
custom,  in  a  closed  carriage.  Junot,  however,  pos- 
sessed a  certain  vehicle  called  a  boghey.  It  was 
very  light,  something  in  the  style  of  a  dogcart, 
and  Laura  cast  longing  eyes  upon  it.  When  she 
wished  Caroline  Murat  good-night  on  the  day  of  her 
arrival,  she  said  to  her — 

"If  you  like  we  can  have  the  most  delicious  drive 
to-morrow.     Are  you  afraid  to  go  in  a  boghey  ?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not  ;  I  should  delight  in  it,"  replied 
Caroline.     "  Well,  it  is  settled." 

Very  early  the  next  morning  the  preparations  for 


1802-1804]  AT  X.irOLEOX'S   COURT  207 

the  day's  sport  began.  Laura  and  Caroline,  whose 
heads  were  full  of  their  project,  refused  to  get  uj) 
until,  amid  the  barking  of  dogs  and  general  noise 
and  commotion,  Junot  and  his  companions  had  left 
the  courtyard  and  started  for  the  woods. 

Then  Laura  sent  orders  to  the  coachman  to  bring 
the  hogJuy,  and  to  make  matters  worse,  the  horse  she 
chose  to  drive  was  a  certain  Coco  which  belonged  to 
Junot,  and  was  not  safe  to  drive  at  all ;  at  any  rate,  by 
an  inexperienced  person.  Laura,  however,  had  taken 
it  into  her  head  that  it  was  perfectly  easy  to  drive 
one  horse  without  learning.  So  disregarding  the 
entreaties  of  the  coachman,  who  was  horrified  when 
he  saw  who  were  going  in  the  boghey,  she  assured 
Caroline  that  she  could  drive,  and  they  both  got  into 
that  vehicle  and  set  off  at  a  tremendous  pace. 

The)'  went  on  well  enough  at  first,  until  Laura 
foolishly  gave  Coco  a  cut  with  the  whip,  which,  with 
the  wa)'  she  fidgeted  and  jerked  the  reins,  naturall)- 
irritated  a  horse  whose  temper  would  not  bear  trifling 
with,  so  that  he  took  the  bit  in  his  teeth  and  ran 
away. 

"  Laurette,"  said  Caroline,  "  do  you  know  how  to 
drive  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Laura.  And  they  both  burst  out 
laughing,  as  Caroline  exclaimed — 

"  You  don't  know  how  to  drive  !  Oh  !  how  foolish. 
What  will  they  all  sa}-  ?  But  I  can  drive  ;  give  me 
the  reins.     Which  way  must  I  turn  ? " 

"  To  the  right,"  said  Laura,  as  she  gave  the  reins 
and  whip  into  the  hands  of  Caroline,  whose  powers 
of  driving  were  very  little  better  than  her  own. 

They  had  left  behind  them  the  quiet  sandy  lane 


2o8  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1802-1804 

along  which  the  first  part  of  their  way  led,  and  were 
tearing  madl}-  along  the  high-road,  where  the  risk  of 
meeting  carts  and  other  vehicles  was  added  to  their 
other  dangers.  A  sharp  turn  led  from  that  into 
another  lane  by  which  they  must  enter  the  woods  of 
Verrieres,  and  the  jerk  of  the  reins  by  which  Caroline 
tried  to  turn  the  horse  caused  him  to  give  a  bound 
that  almost  threw  them  both  out,  and  as  they  rushed 
into  the  lane  Caroline  dropped  the  reins  and  whip. 
They  were  now  just  approaching  a  deep  stone-quarry 
without  a  parapet,  into  which  there  seemed  every 
chance  of  their  being  precipitated,  when  the  noise  of 
a  horse  galloping  at  full  speed  was  heard  behind 
them. 

"  It  is  Murat  ! "  exclaimed  Caroline,  looking 
behind  her. 

Jt  was  indeed  Murat,  and  he  was  only  just  in 
time.  Something  had  delayed  or  made  him  leave 
the  shooting  party  and  return  to  the  house,  where 
the  servants  in  the  greatest  alarm  and  distress  told 
him  of  this  idiotic  escapade  of  their  young  mistress. 

Murat,  of  course,  knew  that  his  wife  could  scarcely 
drive  at  all,  and  in  consternation  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  after  them  as  fast  as  he  could.  He  managed 
to  catch  hold  of  Coco  and  force  him  backwards  from 
the  brink  of  the  quarry.  Then  seizing  Caroline  in 
his  arms  he  embraced  her  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
kissing  her  hands  and  grumbling  at  her  folly,  for  he 
was  still  ]:)assionatel)'  in  love  with  her.  "  As  for  you, 
Madame  Junot,"  he  cried,  holding  up  his  finger, 
"  I  hope  Junot  will  make  a  scene  about  this. 
Mon  Dim  ! " 

Junot  was  very  angry,  as  well  he  might  be,  and  it 


1802-1804]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COURT  209 

was  some  time  before  he  coukl  be  appeased.  How- 
ever, a  few  days  afterwards  he  Ljave  a  splendid  /?/r 
chauipetre  at  Bicvre  in  honour  of  Laura,  whose  fete, 
as  has  been  before  mentioned,  was  always  celebrated 
on  the  loth  of  August  (St.  Laurent). 

Dinner  for  seventy  people  was  laid  upon  a  table 
surrounding  the  trunk  of  an  enormous  plane-tree, 
the  spreading  boughs  of  which  formed  a  tent  like 
a  great  hall  of  green  foliage,  amongst  which  were 
hung  cages  of  singing  birds,  while  the  trunk  was 
hung  with  garlands  of  flowers.  Many  complimentary 
verses  were  addressed  to  Laura,  various  songs  were 
sung  in  her  honour  ;  in  the  grounds  were  illuminated 
transparencies,  and  over  a  pavilion  in  which  Laura 
kept  doves  Junot  had  written  the  following  lines  : — 

"  Quand  ma  Laure  vient  visiter 
Ses  amoureuses  tovirterelles, 
C'est  pour  les  apprendre  d'aimer, 
L'art  charmant  qu'elle  sait  mieux  qu"elles." 

These  words  appeared  in  an  illumination.  During 
the  pauses  of  the  dancing  every  one  rested  and  ate 
ices  near  a  hermitage,  in  which  a  hermit  made 
prophecies,  if  he  did  not  tell  fortunes.  A  magnificent 
display  of  fireworks  crowned  the  entertainment. 

Amongst  all  other  topics  the  most  absorbing  and 
most  interesting  just  at  this  time  was  that  of  the 
Consulate  for  life,  which  was  now  offered  to  Napoleon. 
Junot,  who,  in  spite  of  his  adoration  for  the  First 
Consul,  was  an  ardent  Republican,  regarded  this  pro- 
posal with  disfavour,  and  was  too  little  in  the  habit 
of  concealing  his  thoughts  not  to  let  it  be  evident 

After  he  and  Laura  had  dined  one  day  at  Saint 
15 


2IO  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1802-1804 

Cloud  he  had  a  private  interview  with  Napoleon, 
who  questioned  him  as  to  the  opinion  of  society  in 
Paris  upon  this  point. 

Junot  replied  that  every  one  seemed  to  be  in  favour 
of  it,  but  his  manner  caused  the  First  Consul  to 
remark  with  displeasure — 

"  You  announce  that  as  if  you  were  saying  just  the 
contrary.  With  the  approbation  of  all  France,  am 
I   to  find  censors  in  my  dearest  friends  ? " 

When  after  a  conversation  of  about  half  an  hour 
they  entered  the  drawing-room,  Laura  saw  at  once 
that  something  was  the  matter,  and  as  they  drove 
home  her  husband  gave  her  an  account  of  what  had 
taken  place.  Between  his  ingrained  Republicanism 
and  his  adoration  of  Napoleon  he  was  certainly  in 
an  unfortunate  position.  He  declared  that,  as  an 
honest  man,  he  should  always  speak  the  truth  and 
give  his  opinion  according  to  his  conscience.  The 
First  Consul,  on  the  other  hand,  hated  to  be  opposed, 
and  cared  nothing  about  anybody's  opinion  unless  it 
agreed  with  his  own.  Junot  told  his  wife  that  he 
perceived  they  were  beginning  to  have  a  court,  for 
it  was  no  longer  possible  to  speak  the  truth  without 
giving  offence,  a  state  of  things  which  can  scarcely 
be  considered  peculiar  to  courts  ;  but  Junot  fretted 
till  he  made  himself  ill,  and  when,  a  few  days  after- 
wards, Josephine  asked  Laura  to  dejeuner  at  Saint 
Cloud,  begging  her  to  bring  her  child  with  her,  Junot 
remained  at  home  in  bed. 

As  they  left  the  room  after  dejeuner  Napoleon 
appeared,  and  seeing  the  child,  exclaimed — 

"  Ah !  ah  !  Here  is  our  god-daughter  the  Car- 
dinalesse  !    Bon  jour,  Mamselle  ;  come — look  at  me 


1 802-1804]  '4T  NAPOLEONS  COURT  211 

— there — open  your  eyes.  The  devil  !  do  you  know 
she  is  extremely  pretty,  this  little  girl  ?  She  is  like 
her  grandmother.  Ma  foi!  yes — she  is  like  poor 
Madame  Permon.  There  indeed  was  a  pretty  woman 
— a  beautiful  woman — the  most  beautiful  I  ever  saw." 

Meanwhile  he  was  playing  with  the  child,  jnilling 
her  ears  and  nose,  which  she  did  not  like.  \\\x\.  Laura, 
foreseeing  this,  had  told  her  daughter  that  if  she 
did  not  cry  once  whilst  they  were  at  Saint  Cloud 
they  should  stop  on  their  way  home  at  a  celebrated 
toy-shop,  where  she  should  have  everything  she 
wished   for. 

Although  she  was  under  two  years  old,  the  child 
was  very  precocious  and  understood  this  promise,  of 
which  her  mother  took  every  opportunity  of  reminding 
her,  so  that  her  formidable  godfather  expressed  his 
approbation  of  her  good  temper,  said  she  was  just 
the  sort  of  child  he  liked,  and  when  Laura,  on  his 
inviting  her  to  go  out  on  the  balcony  with  him,  was 
about  to  give  the  baby  to  her  nurse,  he  said  — 

"  No,  no,  keep  }'our  daughter  ;  a  young  mother  is 
always  interesting  with  her  child  in  her  arms.  What 
is  the  matter  with  Junot?"  he  added,  as  they  sat 
down  on  the  circular  balcony  which  surrounded  the 
apartments  of  Josephine. 

"  He  has  fever.  General,  so  that  he  cannot  get  up." 

"But  this  fever  must  have  some  name  or  other? 
Is  it  a  putrid  or  malignant  fever,  or  what?" 

"  Neither  one  nor  the  other,  citoyen  Consul ;  but 
you  know  Junot  is  very  sensitive,  and  when  anything 
wounds  him  it  affects  him  in  this  way.  And  you 
know,  General,  that  a  doctor  is  very  little  use  for  that 
sort  of  thincf." 


212  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1802-1804 

"  I  see  that  Junot  has  told  you  of  the  sort  of  quarrel 
we  had  a  few  days  ago.     He  was  ridiculous." 

"  Allow  me  to  disagree  with  you,  General.  I  have 
no  doubt  you  are  joking,  but  I  can  only  tell  you  that 
you  have  misunderstood  Junot  and  given  him  great 
pain.  Neither  I  nor  this  child  can  comfort  him,  and 
I  don't  believe  he  has  told  me  all  that  passed." 

Napoleon  looked  at  Laura  in  silence,  took  her 
hand,  then  dropped  it,  embraced  the  child,  rose 
hastily  and  disappeared. 

Laura  returned  home  and  told  Junot  what  had 
happened.  He  was  weak  and  feverish,  which,  as  he 
had  not  slept  for  three  nights  and  had  had  on  thirty 
leeches,  was  not  surprising. 

That  evening  she  was  sitting  by  him  as  he  lay 
asleep  upon  a  divan.  It  became  dark,  but  she  did 
not  like  to  disturb  him  by  ringing  for  lights,  and 
after  a  time  she  too  fell  asleep  in  her  chair.  She 
was  awakened  by  rapid  steps  on  the  stairs,  and, 
starting  up,  went  into  the  ante-room,  into  which  the 
first  valct-dc-cJiavibre  of  Junot  came  with  a  light, 
followed  by  Napoleon. 

"Good  evening,  Madame  Junot,"  he  said;  "you 
didn't  expect  me,  did  you  ?  Well,  where  is  your 
dying  patient  ?  "  As  he  spoke  he  entered  the  little 
salon  which  led  from  Laura's  rooms  to  Junot's,  and 
in  which  he  was  lying. 

"Well,  Monsieur  Junot,  what's  the  matter,  eh?" 
cried  he.  "  What  are  you  crying  for,  great  baby  ?  " 
{grand enfant^.  "  Aha!  I  will  attend  to  you."  And 
he  began  to  pull  his  ears,  hair,  and  nose,  according  to 
the  manner,  more  singular  than  refined,  in  which  he 
was  wont  to  show  his  affection  for  his  friends.     His 


1802-1804]  AT  XAPOLEONS   COTRT  213 

visit,  however,  had  the  effect  of  restoring  Junot  to 
the  health  and  happiness  of  which  the  displeasure 
of  his  idol  had  deprived  him. 

Junot  was  Napoleon's  favourite  aide-de-camp. 
A  daring,  brilliant  soldier,  his  nickname  in  the  army 
was  '■^  La  Teinpctc.''  At  the  siege  of  Toulon,  when 
the  bursting  of  a  shell  scattered  sand  all  over  the 
despatches  with  which  he  was  occupied,  his  cool 
remark,  "  Well,  we  wanted  sand  to  dry  the  ink  ;  here 
it  is  !  "  gained  him  the  approval  of  Napoleon  and  the 
admiration  of  his  comrades,  but  as  governor  and 
administrator  he  was  not  a  success.  Generous, 
affectionate,  and  loyal  to  his  friends,  his  hasty, 
violent  temper,  extravagance,  and  dissipation  were 
fatal  to  the  conduct  of  affairs  in  any  responsible 
post  requiring  calm  judgment,  foresight,  and  dis- 
cretion. In  spite  of  the  undoubted  affection  with 
which  both  he  and  his  wife  were  regarded  by  the 
First  Consul,  differences  were  now  more  and  more 
frequently  arising  between  them,  in  which,  as 
generally  happens,  there  were  faults  on  both  sides, 
but  which  tended  more  and  more  to  estrange  them 
from  each  other. 

In  the  voluminous  and  interesting  memoirs  left 
by  Laura  an  exaggerated  worship  of  Napoleon  is 
mingled  with  bitter  complaints  of  his  injustice, 
harshness,  and  ingratitude  to  his  old  and  faithful 
friend  and  to  herself.  By  comparing  her  statements 
with  those  of  other  biographers  of  the  time,  occa- 
sionally even  by  judging  from  her  own  remarks, 
one  can  form  a  tolerably  ,  decided  idea  of  the 
grievances  each  attributed  to  the  other. 

Notwithstanding     Laura's    literary    talents,    social 


214  ^    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1802- 1804 

gifts  and  worldly  experience,  she  does  not  appear 
to  have  had  the  advantage  of  a  well-balanced  mind 
or  to  have  been  at  all  capable  of  an  impartial  judg- 
ment upon  any  matter  nearly  concerning  herself, 
those  she  loved,  or  any  question  in  which  she  was 
at  all  interested. 

To  take  a  single  example — the  seizure  by 
Napoleon's  troops  of  the  pictures,  statues,  and  other 
treasures  of  the  different  countries  they  overran. 
When  the  French  carried  off  the  most  beautiful  and 
valuable  possessions  of  the  Italians,  Spaniards,  and 
Germans,  to  fill  the  galleries  of  Paris,  she  gloried 
in  the  plunder,  regarding  it  as  perfectly  legitimate 
and  praiseworthy  ;  but  when  the  fortune  of  war 
changed,  she  called  the  restoration  of  these  same 
treasures  to  their  lawful  owners  an  act  of  robbery, 
and  no  words  were  too  strong  to  express  her  grief 
and  indignation  against  the  Allies  for  daring  to  give 
back  their  own  property  to  those  who  had  been 
despoiled  of   it  by  her  countrymen  ! 

The  opinions  of  a  person  so  ludicrously  prejudiced 
must  of  course  be  received  with  due  caution,  and,  in 
spite  of  her  exculpation  of  and  admiration  for  Junot, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  displeasure  of  the 
First  Consul  was  justifiable  enough  on  several  occa- 
sions, both  now  and  afterwards.  He  was  irritated  by 
the  mismanagement  and  extravagance  of  the  Com- 
mandant of  Paris,  who,  in  spite  of  the  generosity 
shown  to  Laura  and  himself,  and  the  immense  for- 
tune accumulated  so  rapidly,  was  always  in  debt. 

As  to  the  accusations  circulated  against  Junot 
of  carelessness  and  incompetence  in  the  business 
belonging  to  his  exalted  and  responsible  post,  they 


1802-1804]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COl'RT  215 

were  asserted  by  Laura  to  be  slanders  devised  by  his 
enemies  in  order  to  make  mischief  between  him  and 
the  First  Consul. 

However  that  might  be,  the}'  had  their  effect  to  a 
certain  extent  ;  besides  which,  the  persistent  repub- 
licanism of  Junot  brought  him  on  various  occasions 
into  opposition  to  Napoleon,  who  could  not  endure 
to  be  opposed. 

Another  and  most  unjust  complaint  made  by 
Buonaparte  against  both  Laura  and  her  mother 
was  that  they  received  and  frequented  the  societx' 
of  persons  who  were  his  enemies. 

Now  it  was  undoubtedl}-  true  that  the  nearest 
relations  and  dearest  friends  of  ]\Iadame  Permon 
were  of  tiie  faubotirg  St.  Gennain,  and  man)'  of 
them  emigres.     How  could  it  be  otherwise? 

By  her  own  birth,  by  her  husband's  principles,  by 
every  tie  of  gratitude,  affection,  and  sympathy  Aladame 
Permon  belonged  to  them,  and  Laura,  although  placed 
by  her  marriage  amongst  new  surroundings,  had  no 
idea  of  giving  up  either  her  mother's  old  friends  or  her 
own  at  the  dictation  of  any  one.  She  was  perfectly 
loyal  to  Napoleon,  and  would  never  have  dreamed  of 
allowing  any  intrigues  against  him  to  be  carried  on 
at  her  house  ;  but  this  he  could  never  be  induced 
really  to  believe,  and  his  suspicious,  tx'rannical  dis- 
position was  constantl}'  discovering  causes  for  blame 
where  none  existed.  And  when  once  an}'  such  idea 
had  taken  possession  of  him  it  was  impossible  to 
divest  him  of  it  ;  there  remained  alwa}'s  the  same 
rankling  distrust. 

Junot  was  entirely  in  the  right  in  the  next  diffe- 
rence that  took   place  between  him  and  Buonaparte 


2i6  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1802-1804 

It  was  on  the  occasion  of  the  rupture  with  England, 
which  Napoleon  chose  to  represent  as  being  caused 
by  the  perfidy  of  England  in  refusing  to  give  up 
Malta  as  she  had  agreed  to  do,  the  real  truth  being 
that  England,  having  expressly  stipulated  that  the 
island  should  only  be  given  up  to  the  Knights  of  St. 
John  conditionally  on  the  entire  restoration  and 
re-establishment  of  the  Order,  had  discovered  that, 
owing  to  the  intrigues  of  France,  the  Spanish  priories 
had  been  destroyed,  their  revenues  sequestrated,  and 
there  was  no  intention  of  carrying  out  the  conditions 
of  the  treaty.  The  treaty  having  therefore  become 
null  and  void,  war  was  declared,  and  the  English 
ambassador,  Lord  Whitworth,  left  Paris. 

Before  his  departure  he  received  positive  assur- 
ances that  the  English  subjects  in  France  should  be 
safe  and  unmolested,  notwithstanding  which  Buona- 
parte, in  a  furious  rage,  ordered  the  seizure  and 
imprisonment  of  all  the  English  in  the  country, 

Junot  had  been  at  work  till  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  had  only  just  gone  to  bed  when  a 
message  came  from  the  First  Consul  requiring  his 
immediate  presence  at  La  Malmaison. 

Napoleon  was  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  agitation 
and  excitement,  and,  appealing  to  Junot  as  a  friend 
upon  whom  he  could  absolutely  depend,  he  desired 
him  to  take  measures  that  every  English  man, 
woman  and  child  in  Paris  should  be  arrested  before 
the  evening. 

Junot  was  horrified  at  this  project,  which  of  course 
was  quite  contrary  to  international  usages.  He  stood 
in  silent  consternation  for  some  minutes,  while 
Napoleon,  reading  his  disapproval  in  his  face,  went 


1802-1804]  AT  XAPOLEON'S  COURT  217 

on  with  his  abuse  of  England  anrl  threats  against  his 
own  officers  who  opposed  his  will. 

"  Are  you  going  to  repeat  the  scene  of  the  father 
day  ?  "  he  cried.  "  You  and  Lannes  allow  yourselves 
strange  liberties.  Even  Duroc  must  needs  come  and 
preach  to  me  in  his  quiet  way  !  By  God  !  Messieurs, 
I  will  show  you  that  I  can  put  my  hat  on  the  wroni^ 
way.'  Lannes  has  had  experience  of  that  by  this 
time.  I  don't  suppose  it  amuses  him  much  to  eat 
oranges  at  Lisbon  !  As  to  you,  Junot,  don't  trust  too 
much  to  my  friendship.  On  the  day  I  doubt  )-ours, 
mine  will  be  destroyed." 

Junot,  who,  with  all  his  faults,  was  not  a  man  to 
be  brow-beaten,  represented  to  Napoleon  in  the  most 
forcible  manner  the  outrageous  character  of  the  [dhj- 
posed  measure  and  the  discredit  it  would  bring  upon 
him  and  upon  France,  besides  the  cruelty  and  in- 
justice it  would  entail  ;  and  made  sundry  uncompli- 
mentary remarks  upon  those  who  were  advising  it. 

Buonaparte,  in  reply,  quoted  a  remark  made  by 
one  of  them  :  "  If  the  First  Consul  ordered  me  to  kill 
my  father,  I  would  kill  him." 

"  General,"  replied  Junot,  "  I  don't  know  how  far  it 
may  be  a  proof  of  attachment  to  you  to  suppose  )'ou 
capable  of  ordering  a  son  to  kill  his  father.  But  it 
does  not  signify  ;  if  a  man  is  unfortunate  enough  to 
think  in  that  way  he  had  better  not  proclaim  it." 

Napoleon  was  struck  with  secret  admiration  of  the 
courage  of  Junot,  who  certainl\-  risked  his  future 
prospects  by  his  resistance  to  the  will  of  his  chief 
Buonaparte  himself  related  the  history  two  \-ears 
later  to  Laura,  adding  that  he  very  nearly  embraced 
'  Je  sais  metlre  moii  bonnet  de  travers. 


2i8  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [i 802-1 804 

the  disinterested,  brave  officer  as  he  stood  before 
him. 

However,  he  did  not  show  any  signs  of  relenting, 
but  still  insisted  on  the  Temple,  the  Abbaye,  La 
Force,  and  the  other  prisons  of  ill-omened  reputation 
being  filled  with  the  helpless,  unoffending  English 
— mostly  of  the  commercial  class,  as  those  of  any 
social  standing  had  left  Paris  in  haste. 

He  thought,  or  pretended  to  think,  that  he  was  in 
danger  from  them,  and  gave  Junot  papers  describing 
some  ridiculous  conspiracy,  which,  on  being  in- 
quired into,  resolved  itself  into  an  accusation  against 
a  single  Englishman,  said  to  have  dined  in  a  certain 
house,  got  drunk,  and  given  vent  to  abuse  of  and 
threats  against  the  First  Consul.  This  was  stated  to 
have  taken  place  on  the  3rd  of  May,  and  the  person 
accused  was  said  to  have  been  Junot's  friend,  Colonel 
Green,  who,  by  the  way,  was  a  great  admirer  of 
Napoleon. 

"  You  have  a  gilded  tongue"  (/a  langue  dorce)^  said 
Napoleon,  keeping  to  the  familiar  "  ///  "  and  "  toi',' 
"  but  when  all  is  said  and  done  the  conclusion  I  draw 
is  that  you  and  Madame  Junot  have  a  mania  for 
receiving  people  who  don't  like  me.  If  that  were  not 
well  known  they  would  not  be  made  to  speak  in  that 
fashion." 

Junot  rej^lied  b)-  pointing  out  that  even  supposing 
Colonel  Green  to  have  been  capable  of  the  conduct 
of  which  he  was  accused  in  Paris  on  the  3rd  of  Ma}', 
the  thing  was  impossible,  as  he  was  not  in  I'^rance  at 
that  time,  having  returned  to  London  on  the  17th  of 
April. 

Convinced  at  last  of  the  falsehoods  he  had  been 


1 802-1804]  AT  \'APOLEO\''S  COURT  2U) 

made  to  believe,  Napoleon  took  Junot  by  the  hand 
and  spoke  to  him  with  all  his  old  kindness  and 
friendship.  But  after  a  lon<]^  conference  the  only- 
concession  obtained  was  that,  as  long  as  the)' 
remained  quiet,  the  ICnglish  should  only  be  detained 
as  prisoners  within  the  towns  in  which  the}'  hap- 
pened to  be. 

In  the  winter  of  1803  the  First  Consul  removed 
Junot  from  being  Commandant  of  Paris — according 
to  Laura,  because  he  wished  to  give  that  post  to 
Murat,  and  also  because  the  change  from  the  Repub- 
lic to  the  Empire  being  now  under  discussion,  he 
wanted  Junot  to  be  out  of  the  wa\-.  Others,  how- 
ever, assert  that  dissatisfaction  with  his  administration 
of  affairs  was  the  reason  of  his  removal. 

Me  was  given  another  distinguished  position,  being 
sent  to  Arras  to  command  the  grenadiers  of  what  was 
then  called  the  "  army  of  England." 

Laura  went  with  her  children  to  visit  her  father 
and  mother-in-law  in  Burgundy,  and  joined  her  hus- 
band a  few  weeks  later  at  Arras.  It  was  then  the 
spring  of  1804. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

1804 

THE  change  from  Paris  to  Arras  could  not,  of 
course,  have  been  a  pleasant  one  to  Laura  ; 
but  she  amused  herself  very  well  in  the  ancient 
capital  of  Artois,  with  the  balls,  dinners,  hunting 
parties,  and  reviews  which  continually  went  on. 

Junot  threw  himself  heart  and  soul  into  his  work, 
for  which  he  was  probably  much  better  suited  than 
he  had  been  for  his  former  post.  The  camp  of  Arras, 
of  which  he  was  now  in  command,  was  formed  of 
twelve  thousand  grenadiers,  intended  for  the  ad- 
vanced guard  in  the  invasion  of  England,  and  he 
proceeded  to  reform  and  reorganise  it  in  a  manner 
that  gained  the  highest  approval  of  Napoleon. 

Shortly  after  their  departure  from  Paris  the  Chouan 
conspiracy  was  discovered,  and  the  unfortunate 
leaders,  Pichegru  and  Georges  Cadoudal,  met  their 
death.  This  was  soon  followed  b\'  what  is  generally 
agreed  to  be  the  darkest  stain  upon  the  career  of 
Buonaparte,  the  murder  of  the  young  Due  d'Enghien, 
last  of  the  house  of  Conde. 

This  prince  was  treacherously  seized  outside  the 
frontiers  of  France,  hurried   to  Paris,  accused   of  a. 


i8o4]  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  221 

conspiracy  to  regain  the  heritage  of  his  famil}-,  of 
which  he  was,  however,  entirely  innocent,  and  shot  at 
Vincennes.  Surely  in  Napoleon's  sufferings  <jn  the 
barren  rock  of  St.  Helena  this  infamous  assassination 
was  justly  avenged. 

It  called  forth  a  cry  of  horror  and  indignation 
throughout  the  civilised  world,  and  the  nearest  rela- 
tions and  most  devoted  friends  and  partisans  of 
Buonaparte  were  for  the  most  part  filled  with  grief 
and  consternation. 

The  news  was  brought  to  Junot  in  a  despatch, 
which  he  read  eagerl\-,  with  changing  colour  and 
looks  of  dismay  ;  then,  covering  his  face  with  his 
hands,  he  exclaimed — 

"  I  am  fortunate  in  being  no  longer  Commandant 
of  Paris  !  " 

Josephine's  entreaties  had  been  powerless  to  pre- 
vent the  murder,  which  caused  her  the  deepest  distress, 
whilst  the  anger  and  grief  of  Buonaparte's  mother 
were  expressed  in  the  bitter  reproaches  and  tears 
with  which  she  met  him.  In  silence  he  listened  while 
she  overwhelmed  him  with  her  indignation,  assuring 
him  that  the  stain  of  so  atrocious  an  action  could 
never  be  washed  awa\',  and  that  in  committing  it  he 
had  only  yielded  to  the  counsels  of  his  enemies,  who 
rejoiced  in  tarnishing  the  history  of  his  life  by  so 
horrible  a  page.  She  took  charge  of  the  faithful  dog 
who  had  followed  his  unfortunate  master  to  the  last, 
and  sent  him,  with  the  things  she  collected  belonging 
to  the  Due  d'Enghien,  to  the  woman  he  loved. 

Joseph, the  eldest  and  favourite  brother  of  Napoleon, 
with  whom  he  rarely  had  any  disagreement,  also 
strongly  expressed  his  disapproval  of  this  crime. 


222  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1804 

For  some  time  longer  Junot  and  his  wife  remained 
at  Arras.  The  presence  of  Madame  Marmont,  who 
was  an  intimate  friend  of  Laura's,  was  a  great  pleasure 
to  her.  Marmont  was  perhaps  Junot's  favourite 
amongst  all  his  comrades.  Davoust  was  also  at 
Arras,  but  was  no  acquisition  in  a  social  point  of  view, 
for  although  he  was  really  a  man  of  good  birth,  he 
had  a  hatred  for  the  ancien  regime  which  dated  from 
the  time  when  he  had  to  endure  a  great  deal  of 
annoyance  from  his  friends  and  acquaintances 
because  he  refused  to  emigrate,  but  took  service  under 
the  republican  generals.  Carrying  his  new  principles 
to  an  extreme,  he  was  dirty,  slovenly,  and  unmannerly. 

The  Empire  was  now  proclaimed,  and  late  in  the 
summer  the  Emperor  visited  Arras  and  Boulogne. 
There  was  a  grand  distribution  of  Crosses  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour  at  the  latter,  and  a  great  review 
and  other  festivities  at  the  former  place,  at  all  of 
which  Laura  was  present.  Junot  was  made  grand 
officier  and  grand' croix  of  the  order,  and  the  Emperor 
expressed  the  highest  satisfaction  with  his  grenadiers 
and  showed  especial  favour  and  friendship  to  Junot 
himself 

Laura  was  in  a  carriage  with  General  Suchet  and 
two  or  three  friends,  and  when  at  the  end  of  the 
review  the  troops  were  about  to  defile  past  she  got 
out  and  walked  about  in  order  to  see  them  better. 
The  Emperor,  who  recognised  her  from  a  distance, 
sent  an  officer  to  invite  her  to  come  nearer  to  him 
that  she  might  have  a  better  view. 

When  the  review  was  over.  Napoleon,  leaving  the 
group  in  which  he  was,  rode  up  to  Laura,  and,  taking 
off  his  hat,  asked  her  how  she  was,  whether  she  was 


1804]  AT  \APOLEO\S   COURT  223 

amusing  herself  at  Arras,  and  if  she  wanted  to  go 
back  to  Paris.  But  she  was  so  confused  by  this 
unexpected  attention,  and  by  suddenly  remembering 
the  necessity  of  addressing  him  as  "  Sire"  or  "  Vo^rc 
Majestc"  that  she  was  seized  with  an  unwonted  shy- 
ness, and  replied  with  an  embarrassment  which 
irritated  her  whenever  she  recollected  it.  The 
Emperor  remained  talking  to  her,  and  then,  with  a 
smile,  took  his  leave  and  rode  back. 

Before  leaving  Arras  he  gave  Junot  a  pension  of 
30,000  francs  for  life,  to  date  from  his  departure  from 
Paris  nine  months  before. 

Theyi'Vt'  at  Boulogne  was  also  magnificent,  and  in 
the  evening  Junot  received  orders  from  the  Emperor 
to  go  to  Calais  on  business  of  importance  as  quickly 
as  possible. 

He  proposed  to  Laura  that  they  should  start 
directly  they  left  the  ball,  by  which  means  they  should 
arrive  at  Calais  very  earl\',  have 'tea  a  rariglaise  at  the 
famous  Hotel  Desscin,  and  walk  about  Calais  for  an 
hour  or  two.  The)'  arrived  accordingly  at  seven 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  Laura,  though  she  did 
not  find  much  else  to  admire  in  Calais,  was  delighted 
with  that  celebrated  establishment,  which  was  now  a 
scene  of  despair  on  account  of  the  rupture  of  the 
treaty  of  Amiens,  the  English  being  its  special 
supporters. 

After  these  festivities  Junot  and  his  wife  left  Arras 
and  returned  to  their  Jiotel  in  Paris  in  time  to  be 
present  at  the  coronation  of  the  Emperor. 

The  formation  of  the  new  Court  was  now  the 
subject  of  universal  interest,  not  only  amongst  the 
adherents  of  Napoleon  but  amongst  many  others  who 


224  '4    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1804 

had  hitherto  held  aloof,  but  now  surrounded  Josephine 
eagerly  petitioning  for  places  as  iia//u'  dii  palais, 
chamberlain,  &c. 

The  principal  posts  were  given  to  the  friends  and 
partisans  of  Buonaparte,  although  amongst  them  were 
to  be  found  a  few  historic  names  welcomed  by 
Napoleon,  whose  great  wish  to  carry  out  what  Laura 
called  "  his  impossible  system  of  fusion  "  now  became 
more  conspicuous. 

The  jealousy,  rivalry,  and  heart-burnings  that  went 
on  can  easily  be  imagined.  Besides  the  household  of 
the  Empress,  those  of  the  sisters  of  Napoleon  had  to 
be  formed.  In  that  of  the  Princess  Caroline  were  to 
be  found  a  few  names  connected  with  the  faubourg 
St.  Germain,  which  owed  her  some  gratitude  for 
having  on  one  occasion  saved  the  life  of  the  Marquis 
de  la  Riviere.  In  that  of  the  Princess  Elisa  no  such 
names  appeared.  She  was  the  least  pleasant  and 
popular  of  the  sisters,  even  in  her  own  famih',  and 
with  Napoleon  she  often  disputed  and  cjuarrelled. 

On  one  occasion  they  had  an  angry  discussion 
about  a  play  called  "  VVenceslas."  Napoleon  ordered 
Talma  to  read  the  first  act  to  him,  at  the  end  of  which 
he  said  that  VVenceslas  was  an  old  fool,  and  Ladislas 
an  unnatural  son,  that  the  play  was  good  for  nothing, 
and  they  had  much  better  read  "  Corneille."  The 
Princess  Elisa  contradicted  him,  and  she  and  Napoleon 
so  irritated  each  other  in  the  course  of  their  argument 
that  they  both  lost  their  tempers,  and  Napoleon, 
exclaiming  angrily,  "  It  is  intolerable  !  you  are 
a  caricature  of  the  Duchesse  du  Maine,"  got  up 
and  left  the  room. 

As  for  Pauline,  she  had   been  married  some  time 


1H04]  AT  X.U'OI.EOXS   COURT  225 

before  to  Camilhj,  Prince  liorghese,  a  remarkably 
handsome,  stupid  man,  chosen  for  her  by  Napoleon 
not  long  after  the  death  of  General  Leclerc. 

J^auline's  delight  in  being,  as  she  said,  "  a  rea/ 
princess  "  knew  no  bounds. 

Laura  had  been  at  Saint  Cloud  when  that  estima- 
ble person  went  to  pay  her  wedding  visit  as  Princess 
Borghese  to  Madame  Buonaparte.  It  was  in  the 
evening  in  winter.  She  wore  a  dress  of  green  velvet 
and  was  covered  with  the  Borghese  diamonds.  She 
walked  about,  displaying  her  magnificent  dress  "  like 
a  peacock  his  tail,"  remarked  Laura,  by  whom  she 
sat  down,  saying — 

"  Do  you  see  them,  Laurette,  ma  petite  Laurette  ? 
They  are  bursting  with  jealousy,  dwh  enfant  !  I  don't 
care.     I  am  a  princess,  and  a  real  princess  !  " 

Pauline  Buonaparte  hated  and  envied  Josephine,and 
would  often  shed  tears  of  spite  caused  by  the  grace, 
beauty,  dress,  and  position  of  her  sister-in-law.  Her 
own  happiness  consisted  in  being  more  beautiful  and 
more  admired  than  any  one  else.  She  was  not  only 
the  first  of  her  family  to  attain  princely  rank,  but  the 
only  one  to  keep  it. 

Neither  Lucien,  Jerome,  nor  their  mother  were 
present  at  the  coronation  of  the  Emperor,  owing  to 
family  dissensions  of  various  kinds. 

Jerome  Buonaparte,  a  spoilt,  selfish  lad  of  nineteen, 
the  only  one  of  Napoleon's  brothers  whose  character 
was  altogether  contemptible,  had  chosen  to  marry 
in  America,  without  the  consent  of  Napoleon,  the 
daughter  of  a  certain  Mr.  Patterson,  of  Baltimore. 
In  her  "  Mcmoires "  Laura  observes  that,  although 
Jerome  was  so  young,  yet,  as  he  had  obtained  the 

16 


226  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1804 

consent  of  his  mother  and  of  Joseph,  who  was  the 
head  of  his  family,  the  marriage  was  perfectly  legal. 


ELISA   lUOXAPAUTE.  MADAME  UACCIOCCHI,  (JKAXI)  DUCHESS  OK  TUSCANY. 
(Prudhoii.) 

Another  biographer  says  that  Madame  Buonaparte 
had  not  given  her  consent,  and  that  Mr.  Patterson 
and  his  daughter  resolved  to  risk  the  recognition  of 


i8o4]  AT  XAPOLEOXS  COrRT  227 

the  marriage.  But  considering  Laura's  intimate 
friendship  with  the  whole  Tamil)',  antl  the  partial 
affection  with  which  she  regarded  them,  it  seems 
probable  that  she  knew  the  circumstances  of  the 
case.  At  an\-  rate,  Napoleon,  whom  she  so  indig- 
nantly declares  undeserving  of  the  name  of  t)'rant, 
ordered  all  the  ports  of  France,  Holland,  and  Belgium 
to  be  closed  against  his  brother  and  sister-in-law, 
who  had  sailed  from   America. 

Jerome,  whose  cowardly  desertion  of  his  wife  and 
child  took  place  the  following  year,  at  first  refused  to 
obey  his  brother,  and  returned  with  his  wife  to 
Baltimore. 

Lucien  was  a  man  of  a  very  different  stamp. 
Although  he  had  long  since  given  up  the  fantastic 
follies  of  his  youth,  no  longer  called  himself  by 
absurd  names  or  made  himself  in  anv  way  ridicu- 
lous, he  remained  consistently  republican  and  inde- 
pendent. He  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  his 
disapproval  of  the  disappearance  of  the  republic 
and  the  despotic  power  to  which  Napoleon  was  so 
rapidly  advancing ;  and  was  determined  that  he,  at 
any  rate,  would  not  bow  before  the  tx'ranny  of  his 
brother. 

His  first  marriage  had  excited  the  displeasure  of 
Napoleon,  who  was  then  in  a  much  less  powerful 
position,  and  he  had  recently  made  a  second  mar- 
riage with  a  widow,  Madame  Jouberthon,  which  had 
enraged  the  First  Consul  still  more. 

Madame  Jouberthon  was  good-looking,  fond  of 
society,  and  had  been  a  good  deal  talked  about, 
with  or  without  reason.  Lucien  was  ver)'  much  in 
love  with  her,  and  paid   no  attention  to  the  inter- 


228  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1804 

ference  and  indignation  of  Napoleon,  who  was  now 
eager  to  marry  all  the  available  members  of  his  family 
to  princes  and  royalties,  and  furious  with  Lucien's 
want  of  submission  both  in  public  and  private 
matters,  had  exiled  him.  Lucien  troubled  himself 
little  about  this.  He  had  no  ambition,  but  only 
wanted  to  live  in  peace  with  his  wife  and  children 
amidst  the  scenes  and  pursuits  he  loved ;  for  his 
pleasures  and  interests  were  in  literary  and  artistic 
matters.  So  he  retired  to  Rome,  where  he  was 
shortly  joined  by  his  mother,  who  vehemently  took 
his  part.  After  an  angry  interview  with  her  second 
son,  she  left  Paris  ;  and  although  Napoleon  caused 
her  to  be  placed  by  David  in  the  great  picture  of  the 
coronation,  she  was  really  not  present  at  it,  being  at 
that  time  in  Rome,  where  she  had  neither  title  nor 
distinction  of  any  kind. 

The  coronation  was  a  magnificent  sight.  Laura 
had,  of  course,  a  place  reserved  for  her  in  Notre- 
Dame,  and  Junot  carried  the  Hand  of  Justice  in  the 
procession.  It  was  apparently  without  emotion  that 
Napoleon  went  through  the  imposing  ceremony,  and 
when  the  Pope  was  about  to  take  the  crown  from  the 
altar,  he  seized  it  and  placed  it  upon  his  own  head. 
When  he  came  down  from  the  altar  to  pass  to  his 
throne  his  eyes  met  Laura's,  and  as  she  read  the 
triumph  of  his  look  she  remembered  that  drive  with 
him  in  her  father's  carriage  from  Saint-Cyr  long  ago, 
and  his  exclamation,  "  Oh !  if  I  were  master !  "  A 
few  days  afterwards  the  Emperor  came  up  to  her 
and  said — 

"  Why  did  you  wear  a  black  velvet  dress  ?  Was  it 
a  sign  of  mourning  ?  " 


1%]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COURT  229 

"Oh,  sire!"  cried  Laura  reproachfull)';  and  tears 
came  into  her  e)'es. 

"  But  wli}'  did  you  choose  that  ^loom)',  sinister 
colour  ?  " 

"Your  Majesty  could  only  see  part  of  it.  It  was 
embroidered  with  gold.  I  wore  my  diamonds,  and 
I  thought  this  toilette  was  suitable,  as  I  was  not 
obliged  to  put  on  a  Court  dress." 

"  Is  that  an  indirect  reproach  because  you  are  not 
made  dame  du  palais  ?  " 

Laura  explained  that  she  was  far  from  being 
offended,  and  in  reply  to  Napoleon's  persistent  ques- 
tions replied — 

"  Well,  sire — -but  )'our  Majesty  will  not  believe  me." 

"  Yes,  I  will.     Come,  speak." 

"  Then  I  am  not  sorr}'  for  it." 

"  Wh)'  ?  " 

"  Because  my  disposition  is  not  submissive,  and 
your  Majesty  will  be  sure  to  arrange  the  etiquette 
of  the  service  dlionneur  of  the  Empress  like  a  military 
code." 

He  laughed. 

"Well,  perhaps  so,"  he  said.  "  An^-how.  I  am 
pleased  with  you;  you  have  given  me  a  good  answer, 
and  I  shall  not  forget  it." 

Josephine  looked  magnificent.  Her  mantle  was 
borne  by  her  daughter,  Caroline  and  Elisa,  sisters 
of  Napoleon,  and  Julie,  wife  of  Joseph  Buonaparte. 

A  few  days  afterwards  Junot  came  to  Laura  with 
disturbed  looks,  saying  that  the  Emperor  had  chosen 
him  as  ambassador  to  Portugal. 

"  Well,"  said  Laura,  "  and  wh\'  are  you  not 
pleased  ?  " 


230  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1804 

"  Because  I  am  not  made  for  diplomacy,  and 
Lannes  says  that  the  Court  of  Lisbon  is  Hke  a  mnie 
of  gunpowder.  England  is  all-powerful  there. 
Austria  threatens  ;  so  do  Russia  and  Prussia,  and 
you  can  easily  imagine  that  with  the  sound  of  guns 
and  cannon  I  shall  not  go  and  take  a  su'sta  in 
Portugal." 

The  commands  of  the  P^mperor,  however,  could 
not  be  disobeyed,  so  Junot  and  Laura  had  to  prepare 
for  their  journey,  which,  as  the  time  approached  for 
it,  she  disliked  quite  as  much  as  he  did. 

She  could  not  endure  the  idea  of  leaving  Paris, 
which  was  gayer  and  more  delightful  than  ever, 
especially  just  at  this  time  when,  after  the  corona- 
tion, one  magnificent  fe/e  succeeded  another.  Also 
she  would  be  obliged  to  leave  behind  her  second 
child,  who  was  too  young  for  the  journey ;  and  she 
did  not  like  the  account  Madame  Lannes  gave  her 
of  society  and  life  in  Lisbon. 

The  Emperor  was  well  aware  that  the  manners  of 
many,  perhaps  most  of  those  who  composed  his  Court, 
left  much  to  be  desired,  and  he  was  particularly 
sensitive  as  to  the  impression  they  produced  upon 
foreigners.  He  knew  that  Laura  was  \i^{  faubourg 
St.  Gerniaui,  had  been  brought  up  in  the  salon  of 
such  a  mother  as  Madame  Permon,  was  herself  clever, 
amusing,  and  attractive,  and  possessed  a  knowledge 
of  the  world  which  he  certainly  would  not  find  in 
most  of  the  young  wives  of  his  generals. 

Me  gave  her  minute  directions  for  her  behaviour 
in  Portugal  and  in  Spain,  where  Junot  was  also  to 
go  upon  important  but  secret  business. 

"  An    ambassadress,"   he    said,   "  is    a    much    more 


i«04]  AT  XAPOLEOXS   COURT  231 

important  pietr  in  an  embassx'  than  people  suppose  ; 
it  is  so  everywhere,  but  more  especially  with  us  on 
account  of  the  prejudice  which  exists  against  France. 
It  is  for  you  to  give  the  Portuguese  a  proper  idea  of 
the  Imperial  Court.  Don't  be  haughty  or  vain,  still 
less  touchy,  but  let  }-our  relations  with  the  women  of 
the  Portuguese  nohii'ssc  be  reserved  and  dignified. 
Vou  will  -meet  at  Lisbon  several  eiiiigtrs  of  the  Court 
of  Louis  XVI.  ;  be  most  scrupulously  particular  in 
your  intercourse  with  them.  It  is  in  these  circum- 
stances that  you  must  remember  all  the  good  }-ou 
derived  from  the  lessons  of  Madame  Permon.  Above 
all,  take  care  not  to  ridicule  the  customs  of  the 
country  when  you  don't  understand  them,  nor  yet 
those  of  the  Court.  .  .  . 

"And  be  circumspect,  you  understand.  The  Queen 
of  Spain  will  ask  you  about  the  Empress,  the  Princess 
Louis,  Princess  Caroline,  Princess  Joseph.  You  must 
measure  )-our  words.  The  interior  of  my  famil\-  can 
bear  exposure,  but  it  would  not  be  agreeable  to  me 
that  m)'  sisters  should  be  painted  b)'  a  bad  artist." 

After  other  instructions  he  observed  that  ver)'  little 
French  was  spoken  in  Spain  or  Portugal,  but  a  good 
deal  of  Italian,  and  desired  her  to  speak  to  him  in 
that  language.  She  repeated  some  verses  of  Petrarca 
and  Tasso  with  an  accent  so  pure  that  he  expressed 
his  .satisfaction,  and  then  continued  to  talk  of  his 
family,  of  the  caution  to  be  observed  in  speaking 
of  them,  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  never  mentioning 
himself  except  as  he  was  alluded  to  in  the  Motiiteirr  ; 
of  never  getting  into  any  quarrels  with  the  wi\-es  of 
the  members  of  other  legations,  in  which  very  often 
the  husbands  became  involved,  "  so  that  two  states 


*rT,2  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1^04 

may  be  brought  to  the  verge  of  war  b)-  the  quarrels 
of  two  silly  women."  Finall}',  he  told  her  to  enter- 
tain a  great  deal  and  to  let  her  sa!o)i  at  Lisbon  be  as 
agreeable  as  it  had  been  at  Paris. 

Before  Laura  set  off  on  what  she  considered  to  be 
an  honourable  exile  she  took  part  in  several  splendid 
fetes  given  by  the  army  and  by  different  societies  and 
persons  to  the  Emperor.  The  most  magnificent  was 
that  of  the  Marshals  of  France,  in  which  the  decora- 
tions were  all  of  silver  gauze  and  fresh  flowers,  though 
it  was  in  the  heart  of  a  severe  winter. 

A  great  deal  of  gossip  was  just  then  going  on  about 
a  new  love  affair  of  the  Emperor's,  the  object  of  his 
attachment  being  this  time  a  person  of  unblemished 
reputation.  To  attract  the  attention  of  Napoleon  was 
a  real  misfortune  for  a  woman.  He  bore  her  malice 
if  she  resisted  him,  and  treated  her  with  contempt  if 
she  did  not. 

He  was  extremely  anxious  that  this  new  fanc)' 
should  not  be  noticed,  and  Laura  first  observed  it 
at  a  fete  given  for  the  coronation  b}'  the  Minister  of 
War.  Now  that  there  was  an  Empire  and  a  Court, 
there  were  naturall}'  much  stricter  distinctions  of 
rank. 

The  supper  was  at  different  tables,  round  which 
only  women  were  seated.  Laura  took  her  place  at 
that  of  the  Empress,  thinking  as  she  did  so  of  those 
fraternal  banquets  only  a  few  years  since,  when 
people  were  obliged  to  go  out  in  rain  or  snow  and 
eat  with  the  pickpockets  in  the  streets,  unless  thcj' 
chose  to  risk  losing  their  heads  by  refusing. 

The  Emperor  would  not  sit  down,  but  walked 
about  talking  to  the   different   ladies  of  the   Court, 


i8o4]  .17'  NAPOLEOX'S   COURT  233 

amongst  whom  was  Madame  ,  the  object  of  his 

present  attention,  who  was  sitting  next  Laura. 

The  manners  of  Xapoleon  that  evening  were  so 
unusuall)'  poHte  and  pleasant  tliat  the}'  seemed  to 
her  unnatural,  while  every  one  was  comparing  this 
fi-te  to  those  brilliant  jrnnions  of  the  court  of 
Louis  XI\^,  whose  traditional  glories  were  the  envy 
and  admiration  of  the  mushroom  court. 

Standing  first  by  the  Empress,  handing  her  plate, 
talking  to  her  for  a  few  minutes  with  the  greatest 
courtesy,  he  presently  arrived  where  Laura  was 
seated,  and.  addressing  himself  to  her,  began  to  ask 
if  she  had  been  dancing  much  and  if  she  were  going 
to  take  man}-  prett}'  things  to  Portugal,  where,  he 
observed,  she  would  herself  be  an  example  of  all 
that  was  graceful  and  charming.  As  he  paid  these 
unwonted  compliments  he  was  leaning  partl\-  on 
Laura's  chair,  partly  on  that  of  her  neighbour,  who 
just  then  tried  to  reach  a  dish  of  olives,  which 
Napoleon,  pushing  between  her  chair  and  Laura's, 
handed  her  himself,  remarking — 

"  Vou  ought  not  to  eat  olives  in  the  evening  ;  }'ou 
will  do  }'ourself  harm.  And  you,  Madame  Junot, 
}-ou  don't  eat  olives  ;  you  are  right,  and  doubly  right, 

not  to  imitate  Madame ,  for  in  ever}'thing  she  is 

inimitable." 

The  tone  and  look  which  accompanied  these  words 

almost    startled     Laura.      Madame    made    no 

answer,  but  looked  down  and  became  crimson. 
The  Emperor  stood  by  her  in  silence  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then  as  he  moved  awa}*  she  raised 
her  eyes,  and  Laura  caught  their  expression  as  she 
looked  after  him,  which  augured   ill  for  her  future. 


234  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1804 

The  Empress  was  very  much  annoyed,  and  a  day 
or  two  afterwards,  when  Laura  was  breakfasting  at 
La  Mahnaison,  she  took  her  into  her  own  room  and, 
contriving  to  lead  the  conv^ersation  that  way,  asked 

her  what   the   Emperor  had  said  to  Madame  , 

making  severe  observations  upon  those  who  were 
always  trying  to  be  the  Emperor's  favourites,  and 
declaring  that  their  heads  were  all  turned  by  a  new 
novel  called  "  Madame  de  la  Valliere,"  which  every- 
body was  reading. 

It  was  at  midnight  on  Shrove  Tuesday,  1805,  that 
Laura,  with  her  husband  and  eldest  child,  started 
upon  the  journey  she  so  dreaded. 

Her  grief  was  rather  mitigated  by  the  splendour 
with  which  they  travelled,  by  order  of  the  Emperor, 
who  desired  that  the  first  ambassador  of  the  new 
Empire  should  be  surrounded  with  suitable  magnifi- 
cence. They  travelled  by  Bordeaux  to  Bayonne, 
and  then  for  thirteen  weary  days  to  Madrid,  where 
they  intended  to  pass  five  or  six  weeks. 

Laura,  who  had  studied  during  her  journey  a 
number  of  books  upon  Spain  that  she  had  collected 
and  brought  with  her,  passed  all  the  time  at  her  dis- 
posal in  sight-seeing.  She  had,  of  course,  to  be 
presented  at  Court,  and  to  pay  various  visits  of  cere- 
mony, and  she  formed  a  strong  attachment  to  the 
charming  but  unfortunate  Princess  of  the  Asturias, 
who  died  so  soon  afterwards  under  strong  suspicions 
of  poison,  but  who  had  then  been  only  a  short  time 
married,  and  was  the  idol  of  her  husband. 

The  only  /w/e/  in  Madrid,  the  Croix  de  Malte, 
being  unfit  to  live  in,  Laura  and  her  suite  were 
lodged  in  a  small  house  lent  to  them  for  the  occasion 
by  a  I'rench  gentleman  of  their  acquaintance. 


i8o4]  AT  y.lPOI.EOyS   COURT  235 

When  Junot  had  concluded  his  business  at  the 
Spanish  Court,  the}'  proceeded  to  Lisbon,  a  more 
wearisome  and  dangerous  journey  than  the  first. 
Laura  generally  slept  in  the  carriage,  which  was 
drawn  by  seven  or  eight  mules.  The  inns  were 
nearly  always  unfit  to  go  into,  and  she  had  a  com- 
fortable bed  in  the  roomy  travelling-carriage,  where 
she  slumbered  or  read  in  comfort  as  they  wound 
along  through  the  dreary,  half-cultivated  plains  or 
over  the  wild,  open  heaths,  of  which  the  fragrance 
filled  the  air. 

One  morning  when  the\'  stoj^ped  for  breakfast 
Junot  came  to  the  door  of  the  carriage  and  called 
out — 

"  Laura  !  are  }'ou  dressed  ?  Make  haste  and  come 
out." 

"  Yes,  directly  !  But  why  are  you  so  impatient  ? 
Your  early  journey  seems  to  have  made  \-ou 
hungr\-  ?  " 

"It  is  not  I  who  am  impatient,  but  an  old  friend 
who  has  come  from  Baltimore  to  breakfast  with 
you." 

When  Laura  opened  the  door  and  stepped  out  into 
the  fresh  morning  air  she  beheld  Jerome  Buonaparte, 
whom  she  had  not  seen  for  years.  .Finding  the  ports 
of  France,  Holland,  Belgium,  Spain,  Itah',  and  Por- 
tugal closed  against  his  wife,  who  was  now  expecting 
the  birth  of  her  child,  he  had  sent  her  to  England, 
had  landed  himself,  and  was  now  on  his  way  to  his 
brother  to  try  to  soften  his  anger  and  induce  him  to 
relent  in  his  persecution. 

Jerome  breakfasted  with  Junot  and  Laura,  and 
then  walked  about  with  them  in  a  crarden   attached 


236 


A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY 


[1804 


to  the  inn,  before  which  the  cavalcade  was  drawn  up. 
For  two  hours  Jerome  poured  into  their  sympathising 
ears   the   grievances  and  difficulties  of  his   position. 


n-.NU.MK    I!U(JNA1'AKTE.    KINCl    UV    WKS  ri'HAl.I  A. 

(Kinsoii.) 


Opening  a  locket  he  wore,  he  showed  them  the  por- 
trait of  his  wife,  a  beautiful  woman,  very  like  Pauline 
Borghese,  only  with  more  expression  and  animation. 


1S04]  AT  XAPOLFOXS   CO  CRT  237 

Junot  began,  as  usual,  by  advising  him  not  to  oppose 
the  Emperor,  but  as  Jerome  went  on  explaining  the 
whole  situation  he  felt  that  he  could  not  possibh- 
recommend  any  man  to  commit  so  dastardly  an 
action  as  to  desert  his  innocent  wife  and  child  from 
motives  of  simple  self-interest.  He  therefore  became 
more  and  more  silent  as  the  conversation  went  on, 
and  Jerome  said  that  he  would  appeal  to  his  brother 
the  Emperor,  who  was  "  good  "  and  "  just,"  and  would 
listen  to  him.  Jerome  declared  that  he  would  not 
yield,  and  quoted  the  case  of  Lucien  and  his  first 
wife,  to  whom  Napoleon  made  strong  objections  at 
first  and  became  perfectly  reconciled  afterwards. 
Laura,  however,  knew  well  enough  that  it  was  not 
the  goodness  or  justice  of  Napoleon,  but  the  differ- 
ence between  Lucien  and  Jerome  which  decided  these 
matters,  and  when  the  latter  had  started  on  his  way 
to  Paris,  and  they  resumed  their  journey  to  Lisbon, 
she  told  Junot  that  she  felt  no  confidence  in  Jerome, 
but  greatly  feared  for  his  young  wife.  Junot  did  not 
agree  with  her,  but  events  soon  proved  that  she  was 
rieht. 


CHAPTER    XV 

1805 

THEY  were  now  advancing  towards  Guadiana, 
and  as  they  began  to  ascend  the  mountains  of 
Santa  Cruz  the  scenery  grew  more  picturesque. 
Villages  built  on  the  slopes  of  the  mountain,  almond- 
trees  flowering  amongst  the  huge  rocks  and  boulders, 
shady  ilex  trees  and  a  richer  vegetation  enlivened 
their  way  until,  after  they  left  Meajadas,  a  town 
situated  in  a  fertile  plain,  the  landscape  became  more 
wild  and  gloomy  than  before.  This  part  of  the 
country  was  infested  with  robbers,  and  although  their 
party  was  a  large  one,  the\'  were  by  no  means  safe 
from  the  attacks  of  the  banditti,  who  were  so 
numerous  as  to   form    a  serious  danger. 

The  cavalcade  consisted  of  five  carriages  and  two 
fourgons  containing  luggage,  amongst  which  was  a 
quantity  of  valuable  plate  and  Laura's  jewels.  The\- 
had  an  escort  of  six  men,  and  there  were  pistols  and 
other  arms  in  the  carriages,  in  spite  of  which  Laura, 
by  no  means  timid,  felt  a  certain  amount  of  fear. 

They  had  to  go  through  a  wood  called  the  Confes- 
sional, because  it  was  very  rare  for  any  one  to  pass 
alone  through  it  without  being  assassinated. 

23« 


i8o5]  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  239 

Whilst  they  were  at  Meajadas  they  were  warned  to 
keep  their  escort  close  to  them,  as  the  robbers  were 
about.  A  priest  of  the  place  told  them  many  stories 
of  the  crimes  committed  by  them,  and  pointed  out 
two  men  dressed  in  black  velvet  and  leather,  with 
belts  full  of  pistols,  knives,  and  daggers,  who  were 
just  then  crossing  the  little  square  of  the  town.  He 
said  they  were  well-known  murderers,  who  lived  at 
their  ease  in  the  town  when  they  were  not  out  with 
the  band.  The  townspeople  being  poor,  had  nothing 
to  tempt  them  ;  but  travellers  of  distinction  passing 
that  way  had  better  beware. 

One  of  the  stories  he  told  related  to  the  Count 
d'Aranjo,  a  friend  of  Laura's,  who  was  Portuguese 
minister  at  Berlin,  and  was  recalled  to  fill  some 
important  place  at  Lisbon. 

Amongst  other  jewels,  he  had  with  him  a  very 
costly  chain  of  pearls  and  diamonds,  and  a  blue 
enamel  watch  with  the  hands  and  the  hours  of  large 
diamonds,  which  he  was  taking  from  Madame  de 
Talleyrand  to  the  Duchess  d'Ossuna.  These  and 
other  jewels  had  been  seen,  and  the  Count,  who  was 
brave  even  to  rashness,  had  the  further  imprudence 
to  separate  himself  from  his  escort,  leaving  them  to 
join  him  at  midday. 

He  was  attacked  b)'  a  gang  of  brigands,  who 
plundered  all  the  carriages  of  his  suite,  broke  open 
his  boxes,  and  dragged  him  and  his  secretary  out, 
turning  the  latter  into  a  ditch. 

The  Count  had  hidden  the  watch  and  chain  about 
him,  and  in  answer  to  the  threats  of  the  brigands  he 
only  declared  he  would  have  them  all  hanged,  while 
his  secretar)-,  who  was  an  arrant  coward,  kept  lifting 


240  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1805 

his  head  out  of  the  ditch  and  his  voice  in  supplication 
to  the  brigands. 

"Monseigneur!"  he  cried,  when  he  heard  his  master 
refuse  to  tell  where  the  money  and  the  other  jewels 
were,  "  what  are  you  thinking  of?  Mes  bons  messieurs, 
I  will  tell  you  where  it  is.  Look  there,  to  the  left, 
under  the  cushion,  a  little  button  in  the  panel.  That's 
it,  jnes  bons  viessienrs.  Take  it  all,  but  don't  kill  us. 
The  jewels  are  there  too  ! " 

And  when  the  brigands  were  gone  and  he  was 
again  in  the  carriage  and  found  that  his  master 
had  saved  the  chain  and  watch,  he  almost  wished 
to  call  the  brigands  back  and  give  them  up  to 
them. 

Laura  was  by  no  means  reassured  by  the  stories 
she  heard,  and  when  they  passed  into  the  wild  forest, 
where  on  each  side  of  the  road  they  kept  observing 
crosses  with  heaps  of  stones,  marking  the  site  of  some 
murder,  and  when  in  the  part  called  the  Confes- 
sional an  image  of  the  Virgin  was  nailed  to  a  tree  to 
excite  the  last  devotions  of  the  traveller  who  was 
most  likely  to  meet  his  death  amongst  those  gloomy 
shadows,  she  turned  pale,  her  heart  beat  faster,  and 
Junot,  though  he  pretended  indifference,  stopped  the 
cavalcade,  ordered  the  muleteers  on  no  account  to 
lose  sight  of  each  other,  but  to  keep  the  carriages 
and  fourgons  close  together,  and  carefully  examined 
the  arms  of  the  escort.  They  arrived,  however,  with- 
out any  attack  at  the  end  of  their  day's  journey, 
Junot  walking  a  great  part  of  the  way  by  the  side  of 
Laura's  carriage  as  a  precaution,  while  she  strained 
her  eyes  through  the  gloomy  darkness  as  she  gazed 
fearfully  into  the  dark  wood,  expecting  to  see  some 


iSo5]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COURT  241 

sinister  face  appear  out  of  the  thickets.  At  last  they 
drew  up  before  a  most  miserable  inn,  or  rather  cabin. 
Laura  preferred  as  usual  to  sleep  in  the  carriage,  but 
thinking  perhaps  a  room  might  be  better  for  the 
child,  she  chose  the  least  squalid  the  place  contained, 
ordered  juniper  to  be  burned  and  a  brazier  to  be 
placed  there,  had  Josephine's  little  bed  prepared,  and 
soon  the  little  one  was  asleep  with  her  nurse  in  the 
room,  and  Madame  Heldt,  who  was  a  sort  of 
nursery  governess  and  housekeeper,  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room. 

During  the  night  the  nurse  was  alarmed  by  Madame 
Heldt  opening  her  door  and  saying  with  terror- 
stricken  looks — 

"  Madame  Bergerot,  there  is  a  murdered  man 
under  my  bed  !  Hush  !  "  she  added,  as  the  other 
gave  a  cry  of  horror,  "  they  will  murder  us  all  ! 
And    see,  there    is   a   great    instrument   of  torture." 

They  looked  under  the  bed  and  saw  the  feet  of  a 
man  half  covered  with  straw. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  but  how  are  we  to  get  out?  And 
suppose  it  should  not  be  a  dead  body  ?  " 

"  What  else  should  it  be  ?  "  said  the  other  ;  and 
opening  the  window,  they  looked  out  into  the  calm 
night. 

Every  one  seemed  to  be  asleep  ;  there  was  no 
sound  but  the  trampling  of  the  mules  in  the  stalls 
close  by.  But  just  then,  to  their  intense  jo)',  Colonel 
Laborde,  who  accompanied  Junot,  came  under  the 
window.  Not  feeling  at  all  convinced  of  the  security 
of  the  place,  he  was  making  his  rounds,  and  hearing 
the  women  call  for  help,  he  rushed  into  their  room, 
where  sure  enough  there  was  the  dead  body  of  a  man 

17 


242  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1805 

lying  under  the  bed.  Opening  the  window  looking 
into  the  forest,  he  called  one  of  the  escort,  and  they 
went  down  to  find  the  landlord. 

It  appeared,  however,  that  the  man  had  not  been 
murdered,  but  had  died  of  pneumonia,  and  that 
the  instrument  of  torture  was  an  implement  for 
threshing  corn. 

Every  one  awoke.  Junot  was  furious  with  the 
landlord,  whom  he  seized  and  threatened  to  kill  for 
putting  two  women  and  his  child  into  the  room  with 
a  corpse,  but  after  a  time  peace  was  restored,  and 
they  continued  their  journey  without  any  serious 
adventures,  except  that  Josephine's  carriage  was 
upset  and  she  and  her  attendants  had  a  narrow 
escape.     Finally  they  arrived  safely  at  Lisbon. 

As  soon  as  she  had  been  presented  at  court  Laura 
opened  her  sa/of/,  and  following  the  directions  of  the 
Emperor,  which  thoroughly  coincided  with  her  own 
inclinations,  she  entertained  lavishly. 

She  gave  numbers  of  balls,  and  her  parties,  her 
dress,  and  everything  about  her  displayed  magnificence 
enough  to  satisfy  the  French  ainouj-  propre  and  daz/le 
the  different  nations  represented  at  the  Portuguese 
court. 

Her  position  there  was  a  particularl)^  distinguished 
and  brilliant  one,  as  the  other  embassies  did  not 
attempt  to  vie  with  her  in  the  splendour  of  her 
entertainments. 

The  wife  of  the  luiglish  Ambassador  was  neither 
popular  nor  socially  gifted  in  any  way  ;  the  Spanish 
Ambassador  was  unmarried  ;  the  Russian  Ambas- 
.sador  was  not  much  liked  and  appeared  reluctantly 
at  the  parties  at  the  h^^ench  iMiibass)-,  his  sympathies 


i8o5]  AT  K'APOLEONS  COURT  24.-^ 

beiiii^  English  and  his  powers  of  concealing  them 
limited. 

Holland  was  only  represented  by  a  consul-general. 
It  was  at  the  Austrian  Embassy  that  Laura  found 
her  chief  friends,  and  both  she  and  Junot  soon 
became  very  intimate  with  the  Ambassador,  Count 
von  Lebzeltern,  his  wife  and  three  daughters.  Of 
course  she  also  made  numerous  friends  of  different 
nations,  and  was  soon  perfectly  happy  and  a  great 
favourite  at  the  court  of  Lisbon.  Passionately  fond 
of  dancing,  and,  as  the  Austrian  Ambassadress  said, 
'■  dancing  like  a  fairy  in  the  moonlight,"  she  entered 
with  delight  into  all  the  gaieties  around  her,  which, 
however,  did  not  prevent  her  taking  the  deepest 
interest  in  her  new  surroundings  —  the  strange 
Oriental-looking  town  built  on  seven  hills,  the  steep, 
narrow,  crooked  streets,  so  horribly  dirty  that  the\' 
were  only  kept  from  being  pestilential  by  the  torrents 
of  water  which  poured  down  them,  rendering  them 
impassable  for  some  time  after  the  violent  and 
frequent  storms. 

Laura  found  the  aspect  of  the  streets  of  Lisbon 
much  more  livel)-  than  those  of  Madrid,  where  the 
amount  of  black  in  the  costumes  of  the  people  gave 
them  an  imposing  but  sombre  appearance.  She  sat 
usually  in  a  little  drawing-room  looking  over  a  kind 
of  square,  across  which  people  were  continually 
passing.  The  women  wore  red  capes  edged  with 
black  velvet,  and  handkerchiefs  upon  their  heads  ; 
but  no  woman  above  the  rank  of  a  peasant  or  small 
shopkeeper  ever  walked  in  the  streets.  Laura  there- 
fore, found  herself  condemned  to  go  out  only  in  a 
carriage  drawn  by  four  mules  ;  for  with  two,  as  she 


244  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1805 

said,  it  was  impossible  to  pay  several  visits  in  a  day, 
on  account  of  the  great  distances. 

The  Portuguese  theatre,  do  Sa/itre,  was  dark  and 
dirty,  the  actors  bad,  and  the  costumes  ridiculous  ; 
but  the  Italian  Opera  was  at  this  time  the  most 
famous  in  Europe.  Crescentini,  Guaforini,  Naldi, 
Monbelli,  Matucchi,  and,  above  all,  Catalani  in  the 
height  of  her  glory,  formed  a  brilliant  company,  fully 
appreciated  by  Laura,  who  possessed  all  her  mother's 
love  of  the  theatre. 

It  being  impossible  to  walk  about  in  Lisbon,  she 
used  very  often  to  drive  out  to  some  gardens  in  the 
suburbs  and  walk  about  there.  In  most  of  these 
gardens  she  was  disappointed  because,  in  spite  of 
their  splendid  climate,  the  Portuguese,  who  neither 
knew  nor  cared  anything  about  flowers  or  gardening, 
took  no  trouble  about  them.  An  immense  piece  of 
ground  planted  with  olives,  ilex,  and  broom  was  all 
the  idea  most  of  the  great  Portuguese  families  had 
of  a  garden  ;  or,  if  they  surrounded  their  villas  and 
country  houses  with  anything  more  choice,  it  was  a 
shrubbery  of  laurels,  orange-trees,  and  myrtles,  with 
a  pond.  But  there  was  one  garden  called  Bemfica, 
an  exception  to  this  state  of  things,  in  which  Laura 
delighted  to  spend  her  time.  It  belonged  to  one  of 
the  Portuguese  nobles,  and  was  not  very  far  from 
Lisbon.  There  were  laurels  five-and-twenty  feet 
high,  palms  and  bananas,  groves  of  orange  and 
lemon  trees,  enormous  geraniums,  magnolias,  daturas, 
and  many  other  delightful  flowers. 

Laura,  who  was  passionately  fond  of  them,  had 
driven  out  there  one  lovely  afternoon  and  stayed 
until  late  in  the  evening,  spending  most  of  the  time 


i8o5]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  245 

in  an  avenue  of  magnolias  in  full  flower.  The  air 
was  faint  and  heavy  with  the  scent  of  them,  and  the 
full  moon  was  shining  in  all  its  southern  radiance 
when  she  reluctantly  got  into  her  carriage  and  drove 
back  to  Lisbon,  carrying  an  enormous  bout]uet  given 
her  by  the  gardener  of  magnolia,  datura,  orange  and 
lemon  blossoms,  and  other  flowers.  All  the  way 
home  she  kept  inhaling  their  delicious  fragrance  and 
looking  dreamily  at  the  moonlight,  contrasting  it 
with  that  of  her  own  cold,  grey  France,  and  feeling  a 
delightful  sort  of  languor  stealing  over  her,  which 
Junot  remarked  on  when  she  got  home,  saying  that 
she  seemed  very  sleepy. 

As  she  had  walked  about  all  day,  however,  she 
supposed  she  was  only  tired,  and  went  to  bed, 
placing  the  great  bouquet  close  to  her  in  water, 
and  though  at  first  she  felt  unaccountably  feverish, 
she  fell  asleep  dreaming  of  her  flowers. 

It  was  her  custom  to  get  up  very  early,  but  the 
next  morning  her  maid,  finding  that  it  was  nine 
o'clock  and  she  had  not  rung  for  her,  came  to  her 
door  and  listened.  Junot  thought  she  must  have 
overtired  herself,  and  ordered  her  not  to  be  dis- 
turbed ;  but  when  eleven  o'clock  came  and  still  there 
was  no  sound,  he  went  into  her  room  himself  and 
opened  the  shutters.  Just  as  he  did  so  he  was 
startled  by  a  loud  cry  from  little  Josephine,  who 
had  climbed  upon  her  mother's  bed  and  found  her 
lying  pale  and  insensible. 

Her  maids  rushed  in,  and  Junot,  seeing  that  she 
was  asphyxiated,  threw  open  the  windows,  which, 
according  to  the  pernicious  custom  of  the  time  and 
country,  were  closed. 


246  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [i<So5 

Then,  taking  his  wife  in  his  arms,  he  carried  her 
to  the  open  window,  and  after  some  time,  with  much 
difficulty  the  doctor  succeeded  in  arousing  her. 
Slowly  she  came  to  herself,  like  one  aroused  from  a 
heavy  sleep,  but  if  Junot  had  not  happened  to  go 
into  her  room  just  then  she  would  never  have  opened 
her  eyes  in  this  world  again.  As  it  was  she  escaped 
with  a  headache  only. 

As  the  hot  weather  came  on  the  Junots,  like  most 
of  their  friends,  moved  out  of  the  town  and  took  a 
villa  in  the  delightful  district  of  Cintra,  whose  moun- 
tains and  valleys  are  covered  with  forests  of  oak,  beech, 
poplar,  orange,  and  lemon  trees.  Cascades  fall  from 
the  rocks,  and  wander  in  streams  through  the 
meadows  ;  here  is  to  be  seen  a  convent,  there  a 
ruined  castle,  whilst  everywhere  among  the  woods 
and  on  the  mountain  slopes  are  the  villas  and 
country  houses  of  the  inhabitants  of  Lisbon. 

The  house  Junot  had  taken  was  in  the  most  lovely 
valley  of  this  enchanting  region  ;  and  they  found 
plenty  of  their  friends  near  them,  amongst  whom 
were  the  Austrian  Ambassador  and  his  family,  who 
had  an  apartment  in  the  ancient  royal  chateau  of 
Cintra.  Often  when  the  heat  of  the  day  had  abated 
Laura  and  her  husband  would  walk  over  there,  spend 
the  evening,  and  after  having  tea  at  eleven  o'clock, 
return  on  foot  through  the  fragrant  woods,  lighted  by 
the  moon  or  the  torches  carried  by  their  servants. 

.^s  the  summer  wore  on  rumours  of  war  came  to 
disturb  the  tranquil  life  at  Cintra.  A  coalition  had 
again  been  formed  against  France,  and  Laura  in- 
veighed against  the  envious  and  unreasonable  objec- 
tions the  other  Powers  ventured  to  make  to  Napoleon's 


LAUKIi   JUNOT  (NKli   rEUMOX),    DfCHESSE   DABRANTES. 

(Kioni  a  lithoijraph  by  Gavarni.J 


248  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1805 

having — of  course,  entirely  for  the  good  of  those 
duchies  —  seized  upon  Parma  and  Piacenza,  and 
united  them  to  France !  Lucca  was  also  "  given  " 
to  the  Princess  Elisa. 

With  much  pleasure  they  heard  that  to  Madame 
Laititia  were  at  last  granted  the  rank  and  titles 
proper  for  the  mother  of  the  Emperor  ;  and  at  the 
same  time  Laura  received  a  brevet  de  dame  as  one  of 
the  ladies  of  her  household. 

Junot  grew  more  and  more  uneasy  lest  he  should 
be  absent  when  battles  were  being  fought,  and  he 
waited  anxiously  for  the  summons  the  Emperor  had 
promised  him  if  war  should  break  out. 

At  the  end  of  the  summer  Laura  became  danger- 
ously ill  after  a  miscarriage,  and  for  six  weeks  grew 
weaker  and  weaker.  The  Portuguese  doctors  in 
despair  sent  her  to  a  miserable  village  called  Caldas 
da  RaynJia,  which  possessed  springs  of  such  wonder- 
ful qualities  that,  although  she  was  carried  there  in  a 
litter,  at  the  end  of  a  week  she  could  walk,  and  was 
soon  on  the  road  to  recovery. 

Before  she  was  well  again  Junot  received  his  sum- 
mons from  the  Emperor.  War  was  declared,  and 
Duroc  wrote  to  him  to  make  haste,  as  he  himself  had 
a  presentiment  that  the  campaign  would  be  a  short  one. 

Junot  accordingh'  hurried  to  Caldas,  where  he 
only  spent  a  few  hours  with  Laura,  and  then  re- 
turned to  Lisbon,  whence  he  started  immediately  for 
Paris.  The  Emperor  had  already  left,  so,  after  pass- 
ing twenty-four  hours  there,  he  set  off  in  a  post-chaise 
to  follow  the  army  to  Germany. 

The  troops  marched  so  fast  that  he  did  not  come 
up    with  them    till  he  got    to  Brunn  on   the   ist  of 


i8o5]  AT  XAPOLEOXS   CO  CRT  249 

December.  Xapoleon  was  stanclinrj  by  a  wiiulow 
with  Berthier  at  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morninf^, 
looking  out.  The  weather  was  foggy  and  gloomy, 
and  it  was  scarcely  light. 

"  What's  that  I  see  down  there  ? "  he  exclaimed. 
"  It's  a  post-chaise — and  )'et  we  don't  expect  any 
news  this  morning.  Wh)-,  it's  an  officier-gcncral. 
Really,  if  the  thing  were  possible,  I  should  say  it 
was  Junot.     When  did  you  write  to  him,  l^crthicr?" 

Berthier  informed  him. 

"  Then  it  can't  be  him,"  said  the  Emperor.  "He 
has  twelve  hundred  leagues  to  travel  after  us,  and 
with  the  best  will  in  the  world " 

At  that  moment  the  aide-de-camp  dc  serince  an- 
nounced General  Junot. 

Laura  meanwhile  returned  to  Lisbon,  going  in  a 
boat  up  the  Tagus,  and  being  nearly  drowned  on  the 
way,  for  a  fearful  storm  came  on,  the  sails  were  torn 
and  the  boat  nearly  swamped.  Twenty  men  were 
rowing,  but  they  could  scarcel}-  make  way.  At  last 
Laura,  dripping  wet  but  congratulating  herself  that 
her  child  was  not  with  her,  was  carried  on  shore 
through  the  water,  and  taken  to  a  house  where  she 
got  a  fire  and  dry  clothes  ;  and  that  evening  she 
found  herself  safe  in  her  little  }-ellow  drawing-room 
at  the  French  Embassy,  with  Josephine  on  her  knee, 
and  several  friends  sitting  with  her,  listening  to  the 
raging  of  the  tempest  outside. 

Five  days  afterwards  she  was  awakened  in  the 
morning  by  a  cannonade  so  furious  that  the  house 
shook  with  each  volley.  She  sent  at  once  to 
M.  de  Ra)'neral,  charge  d'affaires,  in  Junot's  absence, 
to  know  what  had  happened. 


250  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1805 

The  news  of  Trafalgar  had  arrived  in  the  night, 
and  the  EngHsh  ships,  of  which  the  harbour  was 
full,  were  celebrating  the  victory.  But  their  triumph 
was  mingled  with  mourning,  for  Nelson  was  dead. 

The  consternation  with  which  the  English  victory 
had  filled  the  French  Embassy  was,  however,  soon 
changed  into  rejoicing  at  the  tidings  of  the  Austrian 
defeat  at  Ulm  and  the  surrender  of  General  Mack 
and  his  army.  The  battle  of  Austerlitz  was  the 
crowning  success  of  the  campaign ;  peace  was  signed 
with  Austria,  and  Junot  wrote  to  his  wife  from 
Munich  that  Napoleon  was  about  to  marry  his  step- 
son, Eugene  de  Beauharnais,  to  the  daughter  of  the 
King  of  Bavaria. 

Being  now  strong  enough  to  travel,  Laura  pre- 
pared for  her  return  to  France.  She  went  first  to 
Madrid,  and  stayed  there  until  February,  amusing 
herself  and  going  a  great  deal  into  society.  Then 
she  set  off  for  Paris,  her  spirits  rising  higher  and 
higher  as  she  drew  nearer  to  the  frontier  of  France. 
She  made  these  two  journeys  slowly  but  pleasantly 
with  her  child,  under  the  escort  of  MM.  de  Cherval 
and  Maignan,  the  gentlemen  attached  to  her  hus- 
band's suite,  who  took  great  care  of  them.  Reading, 
walking,  and  botanising  on  the  way,  the  time  passed 
agreeably  enough,  and  she  arrived  at  Paris  on  Shrove 
Tuesday,  1806. 


CHAPTER   XVI 
1806 

THE  household  of  the  Emperor's  mother,  Signora 
La-'titia  Buonaparte,  now  called  Madame  Mere, 
had  not  very  long  been  formed  when  Laura,  on  her 
return  from  Portugal,  began  her  attendance  there. 
The  Emperor  and  his  famil)'  had,  in  order  to  carr\' 
out  their  pretension  to  being  1-^rench.  changed  their 
harmonious  name  of  Buonaparte  into  "  Bonaparte," 
pronounced   like  a   Erench  word. 

Napoleon  would  even  affect  to  have  forgotten  the 
soft,  delicious  language  of  Italy  which  was  that  of  his 
early  years,  for  Corsica  had  belonged  to  that  country 
for  si.x  centuries  and  only  been  sold  to  France  the 
year  before  he  was  born. 

Madame  Mere  received  Laura  with  great  kindness 
and  affection. 

"Ah  !  you  have  no  occasion  to  name  Madame  Junot 
to  me.  She  is  a  child  of  my  own.  I  love  her  as  a 
daughter,  and  I  hope  her  place  with  an  old  woman 
will  be  made  as  pleasant  as  possible  to  her.  For  it 
is  dull  for  you — is  it  not  ? "  she  added. 

Laura,  however,  made  no  objection  to  her  post. 
She  was    very  fond    of   Madame    Mere,  and  always 


252  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806 

contradicted  the  prevailing  reports  of  her  stinginess. 
It  was  true  that  the  Emperor's  mother  exercised 
more  economy  than  he  approved  of ;  the  simple 
ascetic  habits  of  her  early  life  remained  ingrained  in 
her  nature.  She  had  no  faith  in  the  stability  of  the 
brilliant  fortune  of  her  family,  and  used  to  reply, 
when  remonstrated  with  for  saving  money,  that  she 
was  providing  for  a  future  day  when  she  expected 
that  all  these  kings  and  queens  would  be  coming  to 
her  for  help.  The  extravagance  of  her  daughters 
displeased  her,  though  it  satisfied  Napoleon,  who 
complained  to  his  mother  that  she  kept  no  state  and 
spent  no  money,  whereas  her  daughters  all  adapted 
themselves  to  their  new  position  as  if  they  had  been 
born  princesses,  in  which,  however,  he  deceived 
himself  Pauline  was  the  best,  but  there  was  no  real 
distinction  or  high  breeding  about  that  beautiful  but 
surpassingly  silly  woman  ;  Eiisa  was  plain,  disagree- 
able, and  badly  dressed  ;  and  Caroline,  though  she 
possessed  a  certain  style  of  beauty,  was  awkward, 
high-shouldered,  and  had  a  habit  of  giggling  abso- 
lutely incompatible  with  the  manners  usual  in  society. 

The  Emperor's  mother  was  very  glad  to  have  the 
daughter  of  her  old  friend  with  her,  and  used  to 
talk  to  Laura  with  confidence,  asking  her  about  the 
different  people  presented  to  her,  whose  names  were 
mostly  unfamiliar  to  her. 

One  day,  on  being  told  that  some  one  whose 
name  she  asked  was  the  Uuchesse  de  Chevreuse,  she 
observed,  "  She  doesn't  like  us  ;  and  she  detests  the 
iMiiperor  ;  I  am  certain  of  that."  And  on  Laura's 
asking  her  reason,  she  replied,  "  Her  smile,  and  the 
disdainful  movement  of  her  head  when  I  asked  her  if 


i8o6]  AT  \'AI'OLEON'S  COURT  253 

she  were  not  happy  to  be  so  near  the  Emperor,  and 
then  her  silence  when  I  inquired  if  her  husband  was 
attached  to  the  Emperor's  household." 

It  was  true  enough  ;  the  new  court  and  govern- 
ment were  hated  at  the  Hotel  de  Luynes,  and  the 
Duchesse  dc  Chevrcusc  was  afterwards  exiled  bj- 
Napoleon. 

Although  surrounded  with  honours  and  riches, 
Madame  Mere  had  no  influence  at  court.  The 
Emperor  had  never  forgiven  her  having  taken  the 
part  of  Lucien  against  himself  Her  household  was 
not  a  large  one  ;  it  consisted  of  five  ladies,  an 
almoner,  a  lectrice  (reader),  two  chamberlains,  and 
four  or  five  other  gentlemen. 

Festivities  soon  began  in  honour  of  the  hereditary 
Prince  of  Baden,  who  came  to  Paris  to  marry 
Stephanie  de  Beauharnais,  niece  of  Josephine.  It 
was  a  marriage  of  state,  and  as  the  Prince  was  ugly, 
unattractive,  looked  sulky,  and  made  himself  dis- 
agreeable, every  one  pitied  his  fiancee,  a  pretty, 
charming  girl,  sacrificed,  like  her  cousin  Hortense,  to 
the  ambition  of  the  Buonapartes. 

The  Emperor  returned,  but  Junot  remained  for 
some  time  at  Parma,  of  which  he  had  been  appointed 
Governor.  He  kept  writing  to  Laura,  throwing  out 
hints  that  he  wished  to  be  recalled  ;  at  any  rate,  that 
is  how  she  interpreted  his  constant  requests  that  she 
would  ask  the  Emperor  when  she  and  her  children 
were  to  join  him  there,  which  she  concluded  to  be 
an  indirect  way  of  inquiring  whether  his  stay  was  to 
be  long  enough  to  make  it  worth  while. 

But  Laura  did  not  want  to  go  to  Italy.  She  was 
very  happy  at  Paris,  where  she  had  only  just  returned, 


254  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806 

and  the  rumours  she  heard  of  Junot's  proceedings  at 
Parma  convinced  her  that  she  was  just  as  well  away. 

She  looked  with  philosophic  composure  upon  the 
frequent  and  passing  flirtations  and  infidelities  of  her 
husband,  which  she  never  seems  to  have  cared  to 
imitate.  Her  children,  her  books,  her  friends  and 
society,  were  interests  sufficient  for  her  happiness,  and 
the  love  intrigues  in  which  Junot,  after  his  first 
passionate  love  for  herself  had  subsided  into  a  strong 
though  unromantic  affection  and  friendship,  was 
constantly  entangling  himself,  did  not  greatly 
trouble  her.  She  knew  perfectly  well  that  they 
would  not  last,  and  that  to  Junot  they  were  merely 
the  amusements  of  the  passing  hour  which  in  no 
way  interfered  with  his  affection  for  herself  and  his 
children. I 

Of  course  to  many  women  of  our  own  day,  and 
especially  of  Anglo-Saxon  race,  such  an  union  as 
this  would  be  impossible.  One  of  three  things  they 
would  do — either  they  would  separate  from  their 
husbands,  or  they  would  amuse  themselves  in  the 
same  way,  or  if  they  did  not  choose  to  adopt  the 
latter  course  and  were  deterred  by  important  con- 
siderations, such  as  children  or  social  reasons,  from 
taking  advantage  of  the  former,  their  lives  would  be 
extremely  unhappy. 

Even  at  the  time  in  question  Josephine's  life 
was   continually  embittered  by  her   jealousy  of  the 

■  "After  the  convention  of  Cintra  .  .  .  my  father  had  orders  to 
convey  General  Junot  to  La  Rochelle.  .  .  .  Junot  and  my  father 
became  great  friends.  .  .  .  Every  evening  Junot  used  to  take  out  his 
wife's  miniature  and  show  it  to  my  father  and  kiss  it.  She  was  a 
beautiful  woman  "("  Links  with  the  I'ast,"  p.  47.  Mrs.  Charles 
Bagot). 


i8o6]  AT  NAPOLEON  S  COURT  255 

numerous  other  women  who  were  the  objects  of 
Napoleon's  fanc\',  althou^rh,  far  from  wishing  to 
leave  him,  her  one  dread  was  lest  he  should  leave  her. 

Laura,  however,  was  quite  a  different  sort  of 
woman. 

There  had  been  no  romance  whatever  in  her 
marriage.  Junot  was  ordered  by  Napoleon  to  find  a 
wife  at  once.  He  thought  Laura  would  be  suitable 
in  every  wa}\  and  having  convinced  himself  of  that, 
allowed   himself  to  fall    in  love  with  her. 

She  on  her  part  was  quite  willing  to  marry  any 
one  her  mother  chose,  provided  she  felt  no  particular 
dislike  to  him.  All  she  knew  in  Junot's  favour  was 
that  he  was  rich,  good-looking,  and  a  brave  soldier. 

It  is  probable  that  she  was  entirely  satisfied  with 
the  way  her  marriage  turned  out.  Junot  and  she 
had  no  sort  of  ideal  love  for  each  other.  Except  their 
devotion  to  the  Emperor  and  their  love  of  societ}- 
and  pleasure  they  had  not  a  taste  in  common  ;  their 
religious  opinions  were  entirelx'  different  ;  and  }-et 
they  got  on  ver\-  well  together.  Junot  always 
treated  Laura  with  the  greatest  kindness  and  con- 
sideration, and  she  looked  with  indulgence  upon  his 
flirtations,  saying  that  he  was  ''  tres-bcaii  garcon,  and 
must  be  excused." 

She  did  not,  however,  under  the  circumstances  feel 
inclined  to  leave  Paris  and  take  a  long,  tiresome 
journey  to  join  her  husband,  who  seemed  so  well  able 
to  amuse  himself  in  her  absence,  and  she  told  the 
Emperor  so  when  he  made  some  remark  on  the 
subject.  He  replied  by  one  of  his  usual  speeches 
about  women  not  interfering  with  their  husbands' 
amusements,  which  was   intended   for  the    Empress 


256  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806 

who  ignored  it,  but  taken  up  b)-  his  mother  with  an 
exclamation  of  disapproval  and  by  the  Princess 
Borghese,  who,  as  she  leaned  back  in  her  armchair 
arranging  the  drapery  of  her  shawl,  cried  out 
indignant!}',  "  Quelle  horreurl  I  should  just  like  to 
see  Prince  Camille  taking  it  into  his  head  to  try  and 
make  me  approve  of ah  !  ah  ! " 

For  Pauline,  Hke  Napoleon's  true  sister,  had  one 
code  for  herself  and  another  for  her  husband.  Her 
own  love  affairs  were  many  and  various.  It  was  said 
that  on  one  occasion  when  her  mother  reproached 
her  for  the  scandal  she  caused,  saying  that  her  lover 
was  actually  seen  going  out  of  the  door  of  her  house 
in  the  morning,  she  replied— 

"  Well,  how  else  should  he  go  out  ?  Would  you 
have  him  go  out  of  the  window  ?  " 

One  of  her  liaisons  was  with  a  young  officer  named 
De  Canouville,  very  handsome,  a  brave  soldier,  but 
as  thoughtless  and  indiscreet  as  herself,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  everybody  talked  about  them. 
Pauline  declared,  as  she  always  did  on  these 
occasions,  that  he  was  the  only  man  she  had  ever 
loved.  However,  this  lasted  longer  than  most  of  her 
liaisons. 

On  one  occasion  the  celebrated  dentist.  Bosquet, 
was  sent  for  to  her  hotel  to  do  something  to  her 
teeth.  On  arriving  he  found  in  the  room  in  which 
he  was  to  perform  the  necessary  operation  a  good- 
looking  young  man  in  a  dressing-gown  lying  on  a 
sofa,  whom  he  supposed  to  be  Prince  Borghese, 
especially  as  he  gave  him  earnest  directions  not  to 
hurt  the  Princess,  but  to  take  great  care  of  her  teeth, 
addinijr — 


rHo6]  AT  XAPOLEOW'S  COURT  257 

"  I  am  most  anxious  about  my  Taulette's  teeth, 
and   I  make  \'ou  responsible  for  any  accident." 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  //wn  prince','  replied  the 
dentist  ;  "  I  assure  your  highness  that  there  is  no 
danger." 

During  the  whole  time  the  conversation  went 
on  in  the,  same  style  ;  and  M.  Bosquet  used  after- 
wards to  tell  people  of  the  affectionate  anxiety  of 
Prince  Borghese  for  his  wife,  observing  that  it  was 
delightful  to  see  such  touching  attachment  and 
conjugal  devotion.  Every  one  laughed,  and  nobod}- 
undeceived  him  ;  but  this  was  Colonel  de  Canouville: 
Prince  Borghese  was  at  that  time  in  Italy.  The  end 
of  the  history  of  Pauline  Borghese  and  Colonel  de 
Canouville  is  as  follows  : — 

When  the  P^mperor  Alexander  visited  Paris  he 
presented  to  Napoleon  three  magnificent  fur  pelisses. 
Napoleon  gave  one  to  his  sister  Pauline  who  gave  it 
to  Colonel  de  Canouville.  That  imprudent  young 
officer  had  it  made  into  a  doliiuDi  de  hnssard  and 
wore  it  at  a  review  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel  at 
which  the  Emperor  Napoleon  was  present. 

De  Canouville  was  riding  a  restive  horse  which  he 
could  not  manage,  and  this  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  Emperor,  who  called  out  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
"  Who  is  that  officer?"  and  then  recognising  him  and 
the  fur  he  was  wearing,  he  sent  for  Berthier  and 
asked  what  he  meant  by  having  young  fools  hanging 
about  who  ought  to  be  at  the  war.  "  It  is  just  like 
you,  Berthier,"  added  the  Emperor  angrily.  "  Vou 
see  nothing — one  has  to  tell  you  everything.  I  ought 
not  to  have  had  to  send  away  that  j-oung  man." 

Berthier  bowed,  biting  his  nails,  as  he  always  did 
18 


258  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806 

in  any  perplexity.  The  Princess  Borghese  had 
entreated  him  not  to  let  De  Canouville  go,  and  he 
trembled  at  the  thought  of  the  Emperor's  anger  if 
he  should  discover  this. 

"  There  are  despatches  to  be  taken  to  the  Prince 
d'Essling,"  continued  Napoleon  ;  "  let  him  take  them 
and  start  for  Spain  this  evening." 

It  was  Jeudi-gras,  there  was  a  ball  at  the  Jiotel  of 
Queen  Hortense.  De  Canouville  in  despair  rushed 
to  Berthier,  who  cried  out,  "  I  can  do  nothing !  I  can 
do  nothing!  It  is  the  Emperor's  order!  Why  the 
devil  did  you  wear  those  things  ? "  And  he  had 
to  go. 

Camillo  Borghese  was  a  great  admirer  of  Laura's, 
but  he  was  so  dull  and  tiresome  that  no  possible 
amusement  could  be  obtained  from  his  attentions, 
which  she  avoided  as  much  as  possible.  He  was 
always  falling  in  love  with  and  making  declarations 
to  the  young  wives  of  the  generals  and  others  who 
formed  the  Emperor's  court ;  and  being,  or  fancying 
himself  in  love  with  Laura,  he  pursued  and  tormented 
her  till  she  was  half  afraid  of  him. 

One  day  when  she  was  going  to  a  ball  a  bouquet 
of  flowers  arrived  from  him,  in  which  she  discovered  a 
note  written  on  a  piece  of  vellum  in  a  sort  of  bad  red 
ink,  so  faded  and  indistinct  that  she  could  not  make 
it  out.  However,  she  took  the  flowers  with  her  in 
the  evening,  and  Prince  Borghese,  coming  up  to  her 
with  an  air  of  mystery,  asked  in  Italian  if  she  had 
found  the  letter. 

"  What  letter  ?  "  asked  .she. 

"  Hush  !  speak  lower  !  "  he  exclaimed,  looking  with 
terror    to    where    his   wife    was   sitting,   paying    no 


i8o6]  AT  XAPOLEOXS  COURT  259 

attention  at  all  to  him.  "  It  is  written  with  my 
blood  ; "  at  which  Laura  went  into  such  fits  of 
laughter  that  some  of  her  friends  asked  what  was 
the  matter,  and  on  being  told,  so  great  was  their 
merriment  that  Prince  Borghese  left  the  ball  in 
disgust  and  went  home  to  bed. 

Another  time  a  fancy  ([uadrille  was  to  be  danced 
at  a  ball  given  b\'  the  Princess  Caroline  at  the 
Palais  de  I'Elj'sce. 

There  were  to  be  no  men  in  this  quadrille,  and  the 
women,  of  whom  there  were  fifteen  and  of  whom 
Laura  was  one,  were  to  wear  peasant  costumes  of 
Tyrol.  It  was  arranged  that  they  were  to  assemble 
at  Laura's  house,  and  then  go  together  to  the  Elysee 
and  wait  for  Caroline  in  a  room  opening  into  a 
gallery,  where  she  could  meet  them. 

When  they  were  all  assembled  in  the  galler\'  of  the 
ground  floor  in  Laura's  /uUe/,  a  secretary  of  Junot's 
came  and  told  her  that  some  one  wanted  to  speak  to 
her  alone.  She  went  into  a  little  sd/on  which  was 
dimly  lighted,  and  there  she  saw  a  figure  in  an 
attitude  of  supplication,  dressed  in  the  Tyrolese 
costume  of  the  quadrille.  As  she  approached  to  see 
who  it  was,  the  figure  came  forward  and  looked  so 
unlike  a  woman  that  she  was  frightened  and  turned 
towards  the  door,  when  the  figure  rapidly  advanced, 
seized  her  in  its  arms  and  embraced  her,  whilst  a 
well-known  voice  entreated  her  not  to  call  for  help, 
saying,  "  But  it  is  I  !     What  are  you  afraid  of?  " 

It  was  Prince  Borghese. 

The  Emperor  now  began  to  make  kings,  queens, 
and  sovereign  princes  of  the  different  members  of 
his  family,  a  process  which  appeared  to  satisfy  none 


26o  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806 

of  them.  Joseph,  who  was  perfectly  happy  at  his 
beautiful  country  place,  Mortefontaine,  was,  much 
against  his  own  wishes,  made  King  of  Naples,  and  in 
spite  of  their  entreaties  and  remonstrances  he  and 
his  wife  were  obliged  to  depart  to  their  new  kingdom, 
which  they  were  entirely  unfitted  to  rule. 

Lucien,  the  only  one  of  the  family  who  had  the 
courage  and  spirit  to  defy  Napoleon,  was  leading  a 
tranquil,  intellectual  life  away  from  his  jurisdiction. 
Louis,  who  had  submitted  to  be  separated  from  the 
woman  he  really  loved  ^  and  married  to  one  he 
disliked,  was  now  preparing,  against  his  will,  to  leave 
France  and  become  King  of  Holland,  a  country  both 
he  and  Hortense  dreaded,  and  the  climate  of  which 
disagreed  with  their  health  and  is  said  to  have  caused 
the  death  of  their  son. 

The  arrangements  for  the  crown  and  the  princess, 
chosen  to  reward  Jerome  for  his  cowardly  desertion 
of  his  wife  and  child,  were  not  yet  made. 

As  to  his  sisters,  they  were  as  eager  as  their  brothers 
were  reluctant  to  grasp  the  crowns  and  dignities  be- 
stowed upon  them. 

Napoleon  had  made  Lucca  into  a  sovereign  prin- 
cipality for  Elisa ;  and  Caroline,  insisting  on  having 
the  same  rank  as  her  sister,  was  created  Grande 
Duches.se  de  Berg.  Then  Pauline,  not  satisfied  with 
being  Princess  Borghese,  wanted  sovereign  rank  too. 
The  Emperor  made  her  Duchess  of  Guastalla,  but 
when    she  discovered    that  it  was  only  a  miserable 

'  Louis  Buonaparte,  when  visiting  his  sister  Carohne,  then  at 
Madame  Campan's  school,  fell  in  love  with  Emilie  de  Beauharnais, 
a  schocjlfellow  of  his  sister's  ;  hut  Napoleon  would  not  hear  of  the 
marriage,  and  Louis  gave  way. 


i8o6]  AT  NAPOLEOXS  COURT  261 

little  place  she  was  very  angry  and  began  again  her 
tears  and  complaints.  Then  Caroline  wanted  her 
grand-duchy  made  into  a  little  kingdom,  and  Elisa 
declared  that  Lucca  and  Piombino  were  only  a 
wretched  little  principality.  The  court  was  rent 
with  their  quarrels  and  clamours,  which  irritated 
Napoleon. 

"Ah  ca/"  he  exclaimed,  "what  is  the  meaning  (^f 
all  this?  Why  are  they  not  satisfied?  One  would 
really  think  we  were  dividing  the  inheritance  of  the 
late  King,  our  father." 

July  came,  and  Laura  was  making  unwilling  pre- 
parations to  go  to  Parma  with  her  two  children. 
They  had  both  been  ill  and  the  weather  was  very 
hot. 

One  evening,  about  two  days  before  the  one  she 
had  fixed  on  for  the  journey,  she  was  at  home  very 
busy  giving  orders  and  making  arrangements  when 
General  Bertrand  was  announced,  and  informed  her 
that  he  came  by  ord/r  supcrieiir. 

"  Eh  !  mon  Dieii  I "  exclaimed  she,  "  what  is  an 
on^re  siipcricur,  and  what  have   I   to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  The  Emperor  sends  you  word  not  to  go." 

"  That  is  much  less  alarming.  And  do  you  know 
if  Junot  is  to  come  back  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  at  all," 

"  Nothing  positive  ;  but  what  is  said?" 

"  Nothing.  You  know  we  are  as  secret  as  Venice 
was.     Therefore  I  know  nothing  ;  but  I  may  guess." 

"  Well  ? " 

"  Well,  I  think  I  may  say  that  there  is  nothing 
but  good-fortune  in  whatever  prevents  your  de- 
parture." 


262  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806 

Delighted  at  this  reprieve,  Laura  resumed  her 
attendance  on  Madame  Mere. 

Soon  afterwards,  when  she  one  day  accompanied 
her  to  the  Tuileries,  the  Emperor  sent  for  her  to  come 
into  an  inner  room  where  he  was  sitting  with  some 
of  his  family. 

As  she  made  her  curtsey  he  said  with  an  air  ot 
suppressed  amusement — 

"  Well,  Madame  Junot,  one  learns  a  good  deal  in 
travelling  !  See  how  well  you  curtsey  now  !  Does 
not  she,  Josephine  ?  Does  not  she  look  dignified  ? 
She  is  not  a  little  girl  any  longer,  she  is  Madame 
I'Ambassadrice — she  is  Madame — - — -" 

And  he  stopped  short  and  looked  at  her  with  a 
smile. 

"  Well,"  he  went  on,  "  what  would  you  like  to  be 
called  ?  Do  you  know  that  there  are  not  many 
names  which  are  worthy  to  replace  that  of  Madame 
I'Ambassadrice  ?" 

And  he  rolled  out  the  words  in  a  sonorous  voice. 

She  looked  at  him  and  smiled,  and  he  continued — 

"  Oh  !  I  know  you  want  to  hear  why  you  did 
not  go." 

"  That  is  true,  sire,  and  I  even  wanted  to  ask  your 
Majesty  whether  we  poor  women  are  subject  to 
military  law  ?  because  if  not " 

The  Emperor  frowned. 

"  Well,"  he  asked,  "  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  should  set  off,  sire." 

His  countenance  cleared. 

''Ma  /oz'f"  he  exclaimed,  "I  have  a  great  mind 
to  let  you  start  !  No,  no  !  stay  cjuietly  at  home  and 
look  after  your  children.     The  Signora  Laititia  tells 


i8o6]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  263 

me  they  are  ill.  The  Empress  says  my  goddaughter 
is  the  prettiest  little  girl  in  Paris ;  however,  she  cannot 
be  prettier  than  my  niece  Lajtitia.  You  ha\e  not 
told  me  if  you  are  pleased  with  Madame  Junot, 
Signora  Lajtitia,"  he  added,  turning  to  his  mother. 
"  And  you,  are  you  glad  to  be  with  my  mother  ? " 

Laura  replied  by  taking  the  hand  of  Madame 
Mere  and  pressing  it  to  her  lips. 

Madame  Mere  drew  her  close  to  her  and  kissed 
her  affectionately,  saying — 

"  She  is  a  good  child  and  I  shall  try  not  to  let  her 
be  too  dull  with  me." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  P^mperor,  pinching  Laura's 
ear  ;  "  and  above  all  take  care  she  doesn't  fall  asleep 
while  she  watches  \'ou  play  //lal  eternal  reversis  atid 
stares  till  she  is  nearly  blind  at  David's  picture,  n'liieh, 
however,  is  a  striking  lesson  to  those  zvho  shed  their 
blood  in  battles,  for  it  reminds  them  that  sovereigns 
are  ahvays  ungrateful^ 

Laura  was  thunderstruck,  for  these  incautious 
words  had  been  spoken  by  her  at  a  party  two 
evenings  before  and  repeated  to  the  Emperor,  who, 
however,  seeing  her  embarrassment,  only  said  in  a 
tone  at  once  serious  and  affectionate — 

"  They  are  not  all!' 

A  few  days  after  this  conversation  Laura  was 
spending  the  evening  with  one  of  her  friends  when 
a  message  was  brought  her  that  her  husband  had 
arrived.  She  had  sent  away  her  carriage,  but  set 
off  to  walk  home,  as  it  was  a  lovely  summer's  night. 
On  the  way  she  met  the  carriage  with  Junot  in  it, 
coming  to  fetch  her,  as  he  was  impatient  to  see  her 
after  more  than  eight  months'  separation, 


264  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1806 

He  had  no  idea  why  he  was  recalled,  but  after 
a  few  days  of  suspense  the  Emperor  made  him 
Governor  of  Paris,  in  place  of  Louis  Buonaparte, 
who  was  just  setting  off  for  his  dreary  exile  in 
Holland. 

It  was  the  position  Junot  longed  for  above  all 
others ;  it  was  a  signal  triumph  over  his  enemies, 
and  the  Emperor,  when  announcing  his  appointment 
to  that  exalted  post,  said  he  was  certain  that  the 
people  of  Paris  would  receive  with  delight  their 
former  commandant,  who  would  fulfil  his  duties  as 
worthily  as  before. 

Immediately  afterwards  peace  was  signed  with 
Russia,  to  counterbalance  which  came  the  news 
of  a  battle  won  by  the  English  over  the  French 
in  Calabria — a  defeat  that  seemed  greatly  to  depress 
the  Emperor, 


CHAPTER    XVII 
1 806- 1 807 

ALTHOUGH  Junot  had  attained  so  brilliant  a 
position,  he  was  not  long  in  becoming  dis- 
satisfied with  it.  Whenever  France  was  at  war  with 
any  other  country,  which  appeared  always  likel\-  to 
be  the  case,  he  could  only  be  happ)'  if  he  were  fighting, 
and  he  had  not  been  two  months  Governor  of  Paris 
before  he  wanted  to  throw  up  his  appointment  and 
join  the  army.  When  it  was  decided  that  the 
Emperor  should  go,  his  excitement  became  almost 
uncontrollable  and  only  yielded  to  the  representa- 
tions of  his  wife,  who  pointed  out  to  him  that  the 
interests  of  the  Emperor  would  be  much  better  ad- 
vanced by  his  remaining  Governor  of  Paris  than  by 
his  seeking  personal  glory  on  the  battlefield. 

Napoleon  left  Paris  on  the  night  of  September  25, 
1806.  Junot  dined  with  him,  and  found  him  as 
friendly  and  affectionate  in  manner  as  in  their 
earlier  years. 

A  few  days  after  his  departure  Junot  said  to  Laura, 
"  I  want  you  to  come  and  dine  at  Raincy  and  follow 
in  your  calcche  the  cliassc  Ouvrard  has  given  me  leave 
to  give  there," 


266  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806- 1807 

Laura  was  ready  enough  ;  she  was  extremely  fond 
of  the  country  and  her  beloved  Bievre  had  been  given 
up,  as  it  was  now  too  small  for  their  requirements  and 
too  far  from  Paris.  It  was  a  lovely  day  early  in 
October,  and  the  place  was  enchanting.  The  village, 
the  woods,  the  old  chateau,  of  which,  however,  only 
part  was  standing,  the  rest  having  been  pulled  down 
with  the  vandalism  of  the  day,  the  avenue,  the 
gardens,  the  orangery,  all  delighted  her.  Junot 
showed  her  all  over  the  chateau,  and  she  was 
especially  pleased  with  the  immense  salon,  divided 
by  columns  and  statues  into  three  parts,  of  which 
one  end  was  devoted  to  billiards,  the  other  to  music. 
The  last  room  they  entered  was  a  bath-room  worthy 
of  ancient  Rome. 

Two  immense  baths  of  granite  were  enclosed 
between  granite  columns  with  blinds  of  white  satin. 
The  floor  was  paved  with  black  and  white  marble 
diXxd  giallo  antico.  A  circular  sofa  covered  with  green 
velvet  went  along  the  walls,  and  above  it  were  the 
representations  in  stucco  of  mythological  subjects ;  a 
lamp  of  costly  workmanship  hung  from  the  ceiling, 
the  chimney-piece  was  of  verde  tvitico. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  "  cried  Laura,  "  how  happy  one  would 
be  in  a  place  like  this  !  " 

Junot  looked  at  her  with  a  smile. 

"  How  do  you  like  the  chateau  and  park  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  It  is  like  fairyland." 

"  And  suppose  by  the  stroke  of  a  wand  you  became 
its  mistress? " 

"  I  don't  know.     It  certainly  won't  happen." 

"  Do  you  wish  it  very  much  ?     Well,  it  is  yours," 


1806-1807]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  267 

said  Junot,  putting  his  arms  round  Laura  and  kissing 
her. 

It  was  one  of  the  happiest  da}'s  of  her  life,  and  she 
lost  no  time  in  establishing  herself  there  with  her 
family,  in  which  was  now  included  Madame  Lallc- 
mand,  whom  Laura  had  known  in  Portugal  and  whom 
she  had  found  living  in  a  forlorn  wa)'  at  Versailles 
with  a  companion,  having  lost  her  mother  and  child, 
and  her  husband  being  with  the  army. 

Laura,  who  loved  her  like  a  sister,  invited  her  to  live 
with  her,  and  she  continued  to  do  so  very  happily  for 
eight  years. 

Junot's  mother  also  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  w  ith 
them,  and  so  did  several  of  his  relations.  It  was  a 
pleasant  life  at  Raincy.  Junot  could  easily  go  to 
Paris  and  return  to  dinner,  and  Laura  was  as  happy 
as  possible,  only  disturbed  by  Junot's  longings  to  be 
with  the  Emperor,  which  were  constantly  being 
aroused  b\'  the  news  that  arrived  from  the  army. 
He  kept  a  map  of  German}-  in  his  librar\',  with  red 
and  blue  markers  to  show  the  position  of  the  French 
and  German  troops. 

The  army  invading  Germany  consisted  of  seven 
army  corps,  under  Lefcvre,  Bernadotte,  Xey,  Lannes, 
Davoust,  Augereau,  and  Soult.  The  reserve  on  the 
borders  of  Westphalia  was  under  Mortier,  and  the 
cavalry  was  commanded  by  Murat.  It  was  a  time 
of  intense  excitement.  Scarcely  ever  did  two  days 
pass  without  a  letter  to  Junot  from  Duroc,  Berthier, 
or  some  other  friend  telling  of  the  triumphs  with 
which  the  victorious  army  was  advancing  towards 
Berlin.  Auerbach,  Jena,  Leipsig,  were  added  to  the 
list  of  great  battles  won   by  Buonaparte,  town  after 


268  .4    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806-1807 

town    fell  into  his    hands,  and  on   October  26th  the 
French  army  entered  the  Prussian  capital. 

Berthier  might  well  write  that  it  was  like  magic. 
At  the  capitulation  of  Erfurt  alone  14,000  Prussians, 
including  five  generals  and  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
became  prisoners  of  war,  and  a  hundred  and  twenty 
pieces  of  artillery,  besides  an  enormous  quantity  of 
military  stores,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  French.  As 
the  winter  came  on  Paris  became  very  gay.  The 
Empress  returned  from  Mayence,  where  she  had 
gone  with  the  Emperor,  and  received  as  a  sovereign 
at  the  Tuileries.  The  Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  enter- 
tained at  the  Elysce,  Cambaccres  at  his  palace,  and  all 
the  ministers  at  their  Jiotels. 

Junot  and  Laura  began  a  series  of  entertainments 
by  a  ^x'a.n^  dejeuner  given  to  Madame  Mere,  who  came 
early  and  drove  with  Laura  all  about  the  place,  with 
which  she  was  delighted. 

Laura  presented  her  mother-in-law  to  Madame 
Mere,  and  observing  that  that  simple,  excellent 
woman  seemed  affected  and  almost  tearful  during 
dejeuner^  she  drew  her  aside  afterwards  and  asked  her 
what  was  the  matter. 

"  F'or  you  were  crying,  dear  mother,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  but  it  was  with  joy.  When  I 
saw  myself  at  the  table  with  the  Emperor's  mother, 
when  I  saw  my  child,  my  dearest  son,  sitting  by  her, 
I  said  to  myself  that  this  house  contained  the  two 
happiest  mothers  in  France,  and  I  cried." 

Madame  Mere,  who  was  warming  herself  by  the 
fire,  now  asked  what  they  were  talking  of,  and  on 
hearing,  spoke  most  kindly  to  Junot's  mother,  telling 
her  that  Junot  was  like  a  son  of  her  own. 


1806-1807]  AT  XAPOLEOXS   COURT  iCx) 

The  following  clay  a  hunting  party  was  given  for 
the  (irande  Duchesse  de  Berg,  with  a  dinner  part)- 
and  music  afterwards.  Then  the  l^Lmpress  came 
down  and  spent  the  day  at  Raincy,  making  herself 
as  charming  as  she  well  knew  how  to  do. 

But  very  soon  the  excessive  friendliness  of  the 
Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  began  to  cause  Laura  very 
serious  misgivings.  It  was  evident  that  Junot  was 
the  object  of  her  attentions,  and  Caroline  was  just 
then,  except  the  Empress,  who  was  no  longer  \'oung 
and  did  not  dance,  the  head  of  society  in  Paris. 

She  opened  the  balls  at  which  she  was  present  with 
the  Governor  of  Paris,  she  received  him  constantly 
alone,  and  Junot  was  soon  as  much  in  love  with  her 
as  she  wished  him  to  be,  greatly  to  the  vexation  and 
uneasiness  of  his  wife,  who  saw  the  danger  as  well  as 
the  folly  of  this  new  intrigue. 

For  although  Napoleon  saw  no  objection  to  the 
liaisons  of  his  officers  with  the  wives  and  sisters  of 
other  men,  his  opinion  was  ver)'  different  when  any 
member  of  his  own  family  was  in  question.  This 
affair  was  certain  to  come  to  his  ears,  and  Laura  was 
well  aware  that  Junot  was  endangering  not  onl)-  his 
future  prospects  but  her  own  and  her  children's ; 
and  it  was,  in  fact,  from  this  foolish  and  unfortunate 
entanglement  that  she  always  dated  the  decline  of 
his  prosperous  career  and  the  beginning  of  the  mis- 
fortunes with  which  it  closed. 

The  death  of  her  mother-in-law,  which  took  place 
at  Raincy,  was  a  great  sorrow  both  to  her  and  Junot, 
who  was  devotedly  attached  to  his  mother. 

He  was  now  constantly  engaged  in  inspecting  the 
troops  that  were  being  poured   into    German)-,  and 


270  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1806-1807 

only  came  to  Raincy  to  dine  and  sleep,  sometimes 
even  returning  to  Paris  after  dinner  to  spend  the 
evening  with  the  Princess  Caroline. 

The  appointments  made  by  the  Emperor  were 
more  and  more  of  members  of  the  ancien  regime, 
and  Laura  and  Junot,  reading  over  the  list  in  the 
Moniteur  one  morning  at  breakfast,  remarked  that 
there  were  a  hundred  names,  every  one  of  which  was 
to  be  found  in  Moreri. 

The  great  question  which  was  now  the  centre 
of  the  court  intrigues  was  who,  in  the  event  of 
the  Emperor's  death,  was  to  be  his  successor  !  For  it 
was  of  course  very  possible  that  one  of  the  battles 
of  which  the  tidings  were  constantly  being  brought 
to  Paris  might  be  fatal  to  Napoleon,  as  Trafalgar 
had  been  to  Nelson. 

All  the  different  parties  naturally  tried  to  gain 
Junot  to  their  interests.  The  Empress  spoke  to 
him  one  evening  on  the  subject,  and  having  first 
assured  him  that  it  was  partly  owing  to  her  influence 
that  he  was  made  Governor  of  Paris,  she  brought  the 
conversation  round  to  the  point  in  question,  asking 
what  would  happen  in  the  event  of  the  Emperor 
being  killed  in  battle. 

"  The  case  your  Majesty  mentions  has  been 
provided  for  by  the  Emperor  and  the  Senate," 
replied  he.  "  King  Joseph  would  succeed  the 
Emperor,  in  default  of  him  Prince  Louis,^  his  sons, 
and  in  default  of  them   Prince  Jerome." 

"Ah!"  she  exclaimed,  "don't  do  the  French 
the  injustice  of  supposing  them  capable  of  accepting 

'  Lucien  and  his  children  were  exchided  fnini  llie  succession. 
Joseph  had  no  son. 


1 806-1807]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  271 

as     their     sovereign     such     a     i)rince     as     Jerome 
Buonaparte ! " 

"But,  Madame,  without  defending  Prince  Jerome 
Buonaparte,  who  is  a  mere  boy,  I  will  remind  your 
Majesty  of  her  grandson,  who  would  then  occupy  the 
throne  of  France.     That  is  the  order  of  succession." 

"  And  do  }'ou  think  h^-ance,  bleeding  with  internal 
wounds,  would  risk  new  dangers  by  a  regency  ?  I 
am  certain  that  there  would  be  great  opposition 
to  my  grandson,  but  none  at  all  to  my  son  Eugene." 

For  Josephine's  great  wish  had  always  been  that 
Napoleon  should  adopt  her  son,  to  whom  he  was 
deeply  attached,  and  who  was  adored  by  the  army. 

Junot  hesitated.  Against  the  personal  character 
of  Eugene  de  Beauharnais  there  was  nothing  to 
be  said,  but  it  was  a  subject  of  too  great  importance 
to  trifle  with,  and  although  the  conversation  was 
a  long  one,  he  took  care  not  to  commit  himself  in 
any  way. 

The  Princess  Caroline,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
eager  to  get  together  a  party  strong  enough  to 
place  her  husband  upon  the  throne  in  the  event 
of  its  becoming  vacant,  though  of  course  there  was 
never  any  chance  of  success  to  so  absurd  a  project 
as  that  of  making  Murat  the  successor  of  Napoleon. 

Junot,  feeling  a  certain  uneasiness  after  his  con- 
versation with  the  Empress,  confided  it  to  Cam- 
baceres. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  and  what  did  you  understand  ?  " 

"  I  understood  perfectly  well  that  the  Empress 
was  proposing  to  me  to  make  Eugene  Emperor 
and  King  of  Italy  if  our  master  falls.  That  is  what 
1  heard  with  both  my  ears." 


272  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806-1807 

"  And  what  have  you  decided  ?  " 

"What?  Can  there  be  two  opinions  about  it? 
If  the  Emperor  should  fall,  which  God  forbid  !  is  not 
there  the  King  of  Naples  who  would  succeed?  We 
could  not  have  a  better  Emperor.  If  an  evil  fate 
struck  down  Napoleon,  King  Joseph  would  be  my 
Emperor." 

Cambaceres  looked  hard  at  Junot,  and  said  some- 
thing about  the  Princess  Caroline  Murat ;  then,  seeing 
Junot  was  decided  in  his  views,  changed  the  con- 
versation. 

But  the  other  generals  would  never  have  borne 
the  elevation  of  Murat.  After  the  battle  of  Eylau 
(January,  1807)  there  was  even  a  quarrel  between  the 
Emperor  and  Lannes,  because  Napoleon,  in  his 
bulletin  announcing  the  victory,  gave  the  chief 
credit  of  it  to  Murat. 

"  He  is  a  puppet  and  a  buffoon  your brother- 
in-law,"  exclaimed  Lannes,  "  with  a  face  like  a 
poodle  and  plumes  like  a  dancing-dog.  Come, 
come !  you  must  be  laughing  at  us  !  You  say  he 
is  brave !  Eh  !  and  who  is  not  in  France  ?  He 
would  be  pointed  at  if  he  were  not.  Augereau  and 
I  have  done  our  duty,  and  we  refuse  the  honour 
of  this  day  to  your  brother-in-law  /n's  Imperial  and 
Royal  Highness  the  Prinee  Murat!  It  makes 
one  shrug  one's  shoulders  !  And  here  is  the  mania 
for  royalty  gaining  on  him  too.  Is  it  to  tack  his 
mantle  on  to  yours  that  you  want  to  rob  us  of  our 
glory  ?  Oh !  vion  Dieu  I  take  it  then — we  have 
plenty  of  it !  " 

"  Yes,"  retorted  Napoleon  furiously,  "  I  will  take 
and  give  glory  exactly   as    I  choose,  and  you  may 


iHofj-iHoy]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  273 

understand  that  it  is  I,  and  I  alone,  who  give  you 
your  glory  and  success." 

Lannes  turned  pale,  and  looking  fixedly  at  him, 
replied — 

"  Yes,  yes !  because  we  have  waded  in  blood 
upon  this  battlefield  !  You  think  you  are  great 
because  of  this  battle  of  ICylau,  and  your  feathered 
cock  of  a  brother-in-law  comes  and  crows  out 
victory.  And  this  victory,  what  is  it?  Twelve 
thousand  corpses  lying  there  for  vou  .  .  .  and  you 
deny  to  me,  Lannes,  the  justice  due  to  me." 

Startled  by  the  noise,  Duroc  hastily  entered,  and 
the  scene  was  interrupted. 

The  absence  of  sons,  brothers,  husbands  and  fathers, 
and  the  anxiet)'  felt  for  their  safety,  did  not 
diminish  the  constant  gaieties  that  went  on  at 
Paris  during  the  winter.  Laura  was  passionately 
fond  of  dancing,  and  Junot,  however  tired  he  might  be, 
would  always  wait  jjatiently  and  resignedl}-  until 
she  w^as  ready  to  go  home.  In  all  respects  he  was 
courteous  and  considerate  for  her,  except  in  the 
persistent  folly  of  his  infatuation  for  Caroline  Murat, 
which  Laura  plainly  saw  was  being  encouraged  and 
made  use  of  in  the  hope  of  drawing  him  into  the 
party  who  wished  to  place  the  Grand  Duke  de  Berg 
on  the  throne  of  France,  an  idea  which  Junot 
assured  her  he  should  never  entertain. 

"  Murat !  "  he  exclaimed  scornfully — "  Murat 
Emperor  of  the  French !  Allans  done !  Why  not 
give  it  to  Lannes,  Massena,  Oudinot,  or  any  other 
general    in    the    army?     They    are    equall\-    brave." 

About  her  husband's  imprudent  flirtation  with 
the     Emperor's    sister    Laura    would    have    troubled 

19 


274 


A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY 


[1806- I 807 


herself  very  little,  especially  as  he  assured  her  and 
she  belie\-ed  that  it  was  never  carried  to  any  criminal 
lengths.  But  dread  of  the  consequences  when 
Napoleon  found  out  what  was  going  on  filled  her 
mind  and  affected  her  health  just  at  the  time  when 


CAROLINE  liUOXAPARTK,    WllE  OF   MIRAT,    KINC,   OF  NAPLES. 


she  was  again  enceinte,  and  after  having  nothing 
but  girls  and  miscarriages  ardently  hoped  for  a  son. 
She  was  so  slight  and  the  condition  of  her  health  was 
so  little  evident  that  she  could  take  part  in  all  the 
gaieties  that  were  going  on  ;  amongst  them  in  the 
theatricals  at  Malmaison  in  honour  of  the  Empress's 


1.S06-1807]  AT  XAPOLEON'S   COURT  275 

/c'/e,  in  which  she  and  Junot,  the  lunperor's  two 
sisters,  and  several  other  young  people  were  to  act. 

Pauline  Borghese  and  Caroline  Murat  gave  a  great 
deal  of  trouble  about  their  dresses,  their  songs,  their 
l^arts,  and  everything  else.  The\'  disturbed  Laura 
perpetually.  The  Grande  Duchcsse  dc  Berg  would 
send  for  her  before  she  was  dressed  in  the  morning 
and  the  Princess  Borghese  would  come  to  her  room 
before  she  was  up,  spring  upon  the  bed  and  sit  there, 
preventing  her  from  rising  while  she  talked  and 
chattered  about  the  dresses  and  arrangements  or  told 
her  that  she  ought  not  to  allow  the  proceedings  of 
Caroline  and  Junot. 

Laura  persuaded  Mademoiselle  Mars  to  come 
occasionally  and  give  her  a  lesson  during  the 
fortnight  of  preparation,  and  the  admiration  she 
had  always  felt  for  that  great  actress  grew  into 
enthusiasm  under  the  fascination  of  a  more  intimate 
association    with  her. 

The/i'/^  at  La  Malmaison  began  early  in  the  day 
with  a  dejeuner,  and  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon 
the  Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  had  an  attack  of  nerves, 
to  which  she  was  subject,  and  which  ended  in  a 
fainting  fit.  While  she  was  unconscious  a  letter 
fell  out  of  the  corsage  of  her  dress  and  was  picked 
up  by  the  Empress,  who  put  it  into  her  hand,  which 
she  kept  closed  in  her  own  until  the  Princess  re- 
gained her  senses.  Directly  she  became  aware  of 
this  the  Princess  Caroline,  looking  at  the  note,  ex- 
claimed, "  It  is  from  Murat!  "  but  her  confusion 
and  uncalled-for  explanation  were  not  necessary 
to  enlighten  Laura,  who  knew  perfectly  well  who 
was  the  writer  of  it. 


2/^)  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1806-1807 

The  theatricals  were  a  brilhant  success,  and  it  was 
very  late  when  those  who  took  part  in  them  left 
La  Malmaison.  The  Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg 
insisted  on  Junot  and  his  wife  going  in  her  carriage, 
much  to  the  disgust  of  Laura,  who  would  have  been 
far  more  comfortable  in  her  own,  especially  as  the 
Princess  had  another  attack  on  the  way  which 
delayed  them,  so  that  they  did  not  get  to  Paris 
till  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  then  Junot 
went  into  the  palace  with  her  and  Laura  returned 
alone  to  her  /nUi'/. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  gaieties  came  the  dis- 
astrous news  of  the  death  from  croup  of  Prince 
Louis,  the  eldest  son  of  the  King  of  Holland.  It 
would  seem  as  if  the  death  of  a  child  under  seven 
years  old,  with  two  brothers  to  succeed  him,  could 
scarcely  be  an  irreparable  loss,  except  perhaps  to 
his  parents.  But  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  the 
death  of  this  boy  was  a  very  important  matter. 

The  Emperor  had  always  been  exceedingly  fond 
of  him,  and  as  long  as  he  lived  seemed  tolerably 
resigned  to  his  being  regarded  as  his  heir.  He  was 
so  like  him  in  appearance  as  to  give  rise  to  the 
scandalous  reports  circulated  about  Napoleon  and  his 
step-daughter,  to  which  no  weight  was  attached  by 
any  one  of  importance.  He  was  a  handsome  and 
clever  child,  of  a  charming  disposition,  and  the 
Emperor  indulged  and  petted  him,  allowing  him  to 
touch  and  play  with  anything  he  liked,  and  watching 
with  delight  when,  after  a  review,  the  child  put  on 
the  plumed  hat  he  had  laid  down,  girded  on  his 
sword,  and  marched  up  and  down  imitating  the 
sound  of  a  drum,     lie  would  take  him  on  his  knee 


i.Sor,-i8o7]  AT  NAI'OLEOys  COURT  277 

and  caress  him,  sayiiii]^  that  he  would  Ljrow  up  to  be 
a  bra\e  and  j^ood  soldier.  Hut  for  his  \(nniger 
brothers  he  cared  very  little,  and  when  the  nephew 
who  had  been  his  special  favourite  was  gone,  his 
thoughts  and  wishes  turned  much  more  strongly 
towards  the  idea  of  a  son  of  his  own  to  succeed  him. 
Josephine  knew  this  too  well,  and  the  fear  of  the 
threatened  divorce  mingled  with  her  grief  for  her 
grandson's  death  and  her  daughter's  sorrow. 

It  was  late  in  July  when  Napoleon  returned  to 
Paris,  after  an  absence  of  ten  months.  The  peace  of 
Tilsit  was  signed  but  the  war  still  raged  with 
England.  He  was  received  in  Paris  with  a  delirium 
of  joy  such  as  greeted  him  after  Marengo. 

Laura's  fears  were  well  founded.  Before  he  left 
Poland,  where  he  had  spent  some  weeks  in  giving  his 
army  a  little  rest,  he  had  received  letters  informing 
him  of  the  proceedings  of  his  sister  and  Junot,  which 
made  all  the  more  impression  as  he  was  singularly 
blind  to  these  sort  of  affairs  which,  however  well 
known  to  others,  were  carefully  concealed  from  him 
whenever  it  was  possible,  and  when  the  objects  of  the 
preference  of  either  Pauline  or  Caroline  were  persons 
whom  it  was  nobody's  interest  to  injure.  Put  Junot 
had  plenty  of  enemies,  who  were  eager  to  represent 
his  conduct  in  the  worse  possible  light.  Accordingly 
the  Emperor  received  him  with  such  coldness  and 
constraint  that  Junot  asked  for  a  private  audience 
and  explanation.  He  had  no  trouble  in  obtaining 
either  and  the  indignation  of  the  Emperor  at  once 
broke  forth. 

"Sire,"  replied  Junot,  in  answer  to  his  accusations, 
"  at  Marseille  I  was  in  love  with  the  Princess  Pauline, 


278  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806-1807 

and  you  were  on  the  point  of  giving  her  to  me  as 
my  wife.  I  loved  her  devotedly,  but  yet  my  conduct 
was  that  of  an  honourable  man,  I  have  not  changed 
since  then  ;  I  am  the  same  man,  sire,  with  the  same 
devotion  to  your  Majesty  and  your  family.  Sire, 
your  suspicions  pain  me." 

The  Emperor  looked  at  him  fixedly  and  then 
crossing  his  arms  with  a  frown  walked  up  and  down 
the  room.  "  I  am  willing  to  believe  what  you  say," 
he  replied  at  last,  "  but  you  are  none  the  less  guilty 
of  imprudence,  and  in  your  position  and  my  sister's, 
imprudences  are  faults,  if  they  are  not  worse  still. 
What  is  the  meaning  of  this  way  of  going  on?  Why 
does  the  Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  go  to  your  box  at 
the  opera?  Why  does  she  go  in  your  carriage? 
Ah  !  ah  !  you  are  surprised,  Monsieur  Junot,  that  I 
know  about  your  affairs  and  those  of  that  little  fool 
Madame  Murat." 

Junot  was  confounded,  not  supposing  that  his  folly, 
which,  however,  was  well  known  to  the  police  and  the 
public,  had  reached  the  Emperor's  ears. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Napoleon  ;  "  I  know  that  and 
many  other  things  too  in  which  I  am  willing  to 
see  nothing  but  imprudence,  but  which  I  consider 
seriously  wrong  on  your  part.  What  is  this  about  a 
carriage  with  your  livery  ?  Your  carriage  and  livery 
have  no  business  to  be  seen  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  And  that  you,  Junot,  fou  should  com- 
promise my  sister !  ah  !  "  And  he  threw  himself 
into  an  arm-chair.  "  If  Murat  were  to  know  of  this," 
he  went  on,  after  a  few  moments'  silence,  "  if  he  were 
to  hear  all  these  fine  stories  of  chasses  at  Raincy  and 


1806-1807]  ''i'r  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  279 

carriages  with  your  livcr\'  at  tlie  theatres  " — and  again 
he  began  to  walk  up  and  down — "  yes,  if  he  knew  all 
I  have  been  saying,  what  would  he  do?  you  would 
have  a  terrible  storm  to  meet." 

"  If  Murat  thinks  he  is  injured,"  cried  Junot,  "  it  is 
not  long  since  we  were  equal  on  the  battlefield  or 
anywhere  else  ;  and  I  will  give  him  any  satisfaction 
he  likes.  The  Cossacks  may  be  afraid  of  him,  but 
it's  not  so  easy  to  frighten  me,  and  this  time  I  will 
fight  with  pistols." 

"  E/i  !  pardieu  !  "  cried  Napoleon,  "  that's  exactly 
what  I  feared.  But  I  have  arranged  all  that,"  he 
went  on,  in  a  milder  tone.  "  I  have  spoken  to  him 
and  it  is  all  right." 

"  Sire,"  replied  Junot,  "I  thank  you,  but  I  must 
remark  to  your  ]\Iajest\'  that  I  do  not  wish  for  any 
arrangement  between  the  Grand  Due  de  Berg  and 
myself  If  he  thinks  himself  injured,  which  I  deny 
that  he  has  any  right  to  say,  we  are  not  far  away 
from  each  other,  my  hotel  is  very  near  the  Elysee." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  said  the  Emperor,  "  much  too  near,  and 
apropos  of  that,  what  is  the  meaning  of  all  these  visits 
that  my  sister  pays  to  your  wife  ?  They  have  been 
very  intimate  I  know,  but  '  autre  tei?ips,  autre  cou- 
tiinie'  That  also  has  been  remarked  upon  and  made 
a  subject  of  gossip." 

"  Sire,  my  wife  is  just  now  ver}'  unwell  and  cannot 
go  out  without  the  greatest  care.  Her  Imperial 
Highness  the  Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  has  been 
kind  enough  to  come  and  see  her  two  or  three  times 
since  the  spring  ;  that  is  what  her  numerous  visits 
amount  to." 

"  It  is  not  true,"  replied  the  Emperor  taking  a  large 


28o  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1806-1807 

letter  out  of  a  drawer  and  looking  over  it  with  a 
frown. 

Junot  recognised  the  handwriting  and  exclaimed 
hastily,  "  I  beg  your  Majesty's  pardon,  but  if  you 
judge  and  condemn  your  sister  and  your  oldest  friend 
on  the  accusations  of  the  man  who  wrote  that  letter, 
I  cannot  believe  in  your  impartiality.  Why  it  is  not 
a  letter,  it  is  a  copy  of  a  police  report ;  well,  he  might 
have  respected,  at  any  rate,  your  Majesty's  sister.  But 
there  are  ways  and  means  of  making  people  circum- 
spect and  polite,  which  I  shall  employ  with  him." 

Much  disturbed,  the  Emperor  forbade  Junot  to 
challenge  either  Murat  or  the  writer  of  the  accusa- 
tions. Junot  swore  he  would  fight  with  him  first,  and 
if  he  came  safe  out  of  that  duel  would  be  ready  for 
Murat.  Napoleon,  at  last  appealing  to  Junot's 
affection  as  an  old  friend,  and  telling  him  that  he 
would   speak   to   him  again,  closed  the  interview. 

In  spite  of  his  protestations  and  attempts  to  throw 
the  blame  upon  the  treachery  of  his  enemies,  it  is 
perfectly  evident  that  Junot  had  no  one,  and  nothing 
but  himself  to  thank  for  the  consequences  of  his 
obstinate  folly. 

The  Emperor  put  an  end  to  his  flirtation  with  the 
Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  by  exiling  him  from  Paris, 
but  softened  the  banishment  by  giving  him  command 
of  the  army  then  assembling  on  the  Spanish  frontier. 

Junot  came  to  Laura  in  a  state  of  violent  despair, 
and  she,  although  seeing  the  exact  fulfilment  of  her 
own  predictions,  was  generous  enough  not  to  reproach 
him  with  the  senseless  vanity  and  disregard  of  her 
entreaties  which  had  deprived  them  of  their  splendid 
position  ;  but  to  calm  and  console  him,  as  she  had 


iSo'i-iSo;]  .47'  XAPOLEOX^S   COURT  2S1 

nearly  always  the  power  to  do,  and  persuade  him  to 
submit  with  a  ^ood  grace  to  what  was  now  inevitable. 
In  reading  even  Laura's  one-sided  account  of  this  trans- 
action, and  comparing  it  with  the  statements  (jf  other 
writers,  it  is  impossible  to  help  seeing  that  Xapoleon, 
however  harshly,  even  cruelly,  he  treated  Junot  in 
after  }-ears,  was  in  this  case  decidedly  lenient,  l^c- 
sides  his  displeasure  that  Junot  should  have  taken 
advantage  of  the  brilliant  position  he  had  given  him, 
to  compromise  his  sister.  Napoleon  was  irritated  by 
the  extravagance  both  of  Junot  and  of  Laura,  who, 
as  the  Emperor  once  remarked  to  her,  was  said  to 
spend  more  money  on  her  dress  than  any  woman 
in    Paris. 

"  You  have  not  committed  a  crime  but  a  fault,"  said 
Napoleon.  "It  is  necessary  that  you  should  leave 
Paris  for  a  time  in  order  to  put  a  stop  to  the  gossip 
about  my  sister  and  yourself.  I  defy  any  man  to  say 
any  more  about  it,  in  view  of  the  confidence  with 
which  I  invest  \'ou.  You  will  go  to  Lisbon  with 
supreme  authority,  and  correspond  only  with  me. 
Come,  my  old  friend,  the  bdtoii  dc  inarccluxl  lies 
there." 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
1807 

IT  was  the  20th  of  August.  Junot  was  to  set  out 
the  following  day  but  one.  He  had  gone  out 
to  dinner,  and  Laura,  tired  with  superintending  the 
preparations  for  his  departure,  was  just  going  to  bed, 
though  it  was  only  nine  o'clock,  when  a  letter  was 
brought  from  Duroc  saying  that  the  Princess  Royal 
of  Wurtemberg  would  arrive  at  Raincy  at  nine 
o'clock  next  morning,  as  the  Emperor  wished  her  to 
breakfast  there  and  remain  until  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening. 

After  unsuccessful  attempts  in  other  quarters  the 
Emperor  Napoleon  had  succeeded  in  inducing  the 
King  of  Wurtemberg  to  sacrifice  his  daughter,  who 
was  to  be  given  to  Jerome  with  the  kingdom  of 
Westphalia  as  a  reward  for  his  cowardly  desertion  of 
his  wife  and   child. 

The  Empress  Catherine  of  Russia  indignantly 
refused  to  allow  a  Russian  grand  duchess  to  be 
given  to  a  Buonaparte,  even  to  the  Emperor  him- 
self. It  was  reserved  for  the  Emperor  of  Austria  and 
the    King   of  Wurtemberg  so  far  to  disregard   the 

precepts    of  the   Catholic    Church    as    to   give    their 

282 


i8o7]  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  283 

daughters  to  men  who  were  alread)-  married  and 
whose  wives  were  still  living. 

The  IVincess  Catherine  felt  this  aciitel}',  and 
although  she  had  reluctantly  yielded  to  her  father's 
entreaties,  her  pride  revolted  against  the  upstart 
Jerome,  and  her  religious  scruples  assured  her  that,  as 
his  real  wife  was  alive,  her  marriage  could  not  be 
a  lawful  one. 

Laura  sent  for  her  chef,  Rcchaud,  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  cooks  in  Europe,  who  replied,  "Madame 
can  start  for  Rainc)'  when  she  pleases  ;  everything 
shall  be  ready  at  the  time  she  desires." 

She  set  off  at  about  ten  o'clock,  rejoicing  in  the 
brilliant  moonlight  which  reminded  her  of  Spain  or 
Italy,  When  she  got  to  Rainc}'  some  o(  the  foiirj^o^/s 
of  provisions  had  already  arrived,  and  all  night 
along  the  road  carts  and  different  conveyances  were 
coming  and  going  with  the  things  required  at  such 
short  notice. 

Laura  slept  in  a  room  adjoining  the  bath-room, 
that  her  own  might  be  given  up  to  the  Princess,  who 
at  nine  in  the  morning  appeared  before  the  chateau, 
where  Laura,  dressed  in  white  moiree  with  a  long 
train,  and  a  white  toq/ir  with  feathers,  stood  waiting 
to  receive  her,  thinking  all  the  time  of  Jerome's  pro- 
testations and  vows  of  fidelity  to  his  wife  and  child 
that  morning  on  the  plains  of  Estramadura. 

The  Princess  Catherine  was  between  nineteen  and 
twenty  years  old,  with  an  air  of  distinction,  but  not 
to  be  compared  in  beauty  to  the  lovely  miniature  of 
Jerome's  discarded  wife.  She  looked  cold  and 
haughty,  and  Laura  at  first  disliked  her,  but  her 
courtesy  of  both  speech  and  manner  soon  removed 


284  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1807 

this  impression.  It  was  evident  that  she  was  suffer- 
ing, and  Laura  pitied  her  with  all  her  heart.  She 
had  been  separated  from  her  German  attendants 
according  to  the  custom  and  was  surrounded  by 
those  chosen  by  the  Emperor  with  great  care,  for 
he  was  exceedingly  delighted  and  proud  of  this 
alHance. 

Bessieres  had  married  her  by  proxy  for  Jerome, 
which  did  not  appear  to  increase  the  favour  with 
which  she  regarded  him.  Bessieres  was  one  of  the 
most  polished  of  Napoleon's  Court,  but  when  he 
made  some  joking  remark  to  the  Princess  Catherine 
her  reply  was  such  as  to  put  an  end  to  any  further 
attempts  at  the  infraction  of  the  strict  etiquette  of  a 
German  Court. 

She  placed  Laura  on  her  right  hand,  and 
conversed  for  a  long  time  with  her  and  Madame 
Lallemand,  seeming  to  breathe  more  freely  when 
her  father's  minister  arrived.  The  dejeuner  lasted 
till  half-past  eleven,  after  which  they  followed 
the  cliasse  in  a  carriage  till  three,  in  spite  of 
the  great  heat.  The  Princess  lost  her  constraint  and 
became  more  cheerful,  but  when  she  had  made  her 
toilette  in  readiness  to  receive  Prince  Jerome,  Laura 
observed  with  regret  that  she  was  very  badly  dressed, 
reflecting  that  as  she  was  obliged  to  marry  Jerome 
she  might  as  well  please  him. 

The  Princess  dined  in  the  library  with  Laura, 
Madame  Lallemand,  and  three  of  her  ladies,  Junot 
entertaining  Bessieres  and  the  rest.  The  dinner  was 
a  melancholy  one,  and  the  Princess  with  some  hesi- 
tation asked  Laura  if  she  could  be  told  of  the 
approach  of  Prince  Jt^rome  a  few  minutes  before  his 


i8o7]  AT  WlPOl.EOXS  COrRT  285 

arrival.  A  man  was  accordingly  posted  at  the  end 
of  the  long  avenue  leading  to  the  chateau. 

The  Princess  seemed  nervous  and  absent  during 
dinner,  after  which  they  retired  to  the  great  drawing- 
room,  where  coffee  and  ices  were  brought,  and  whence 
the  sounds  of  laughter  and  mingled  voices  were 
heard  from  the  dining-room.  Presently  it  was  an- 
nounced that  Prince  Jerome  would  arrive  in  five 
minutes.  The  Princess  thanked  Laura  with  a  half 
smile,  but  she  became  crimson  and  seemed  hardly 
able  to  speak.  However,  she  made  an  attempt  to 
calm  her  agitation,  called  her  first  lady  of  honour  and 
gave  orders  for  their  departure  immediately  after  the 
interview.  Just  then  Madame  Lallemand  hastily 
whispered  to  Laura  that  she  had  recollected  that  the 
last  time  she  saw  Jerome  was  at  Baltimore  with  his 
wife  whom  she  knew  very  well,  and  had  certainl\- 
better  not  see  him  now. 

"Ah!  ///on  Dic/i  !  I  should  think  so!"  cried 
Laura,  and  she  pushed  her  through  one  door  just  as 
Jerome  Buonaparte  entered  by  another,  followed  by 
the  officers  of  his  household. 

Jerome  was  the  worst  looking  of  all  the  brothers. 
Short,  ill-made,  high-shouldered  without  either  grace 
or  distinction,  he  could  not  have  made  a  favourable 
impression  upon  the  Princess  who  turned  from  the 
fireplace  where  she  was  standing,  to  meet  him,  and 
after  exchanging  a  few  words  pointed  to  an  arm- 
chair by  her  side.  They  sat  for  a  short  time  talking 
in  a  formal  wa}',  and  then  Jerome  rising  said  to  her  : 

"  My  brother  is  expecting  us.  I  don't  wish  to  delay 
any  longer  the  pleasure  he  will  have  in  making  the 
acquaintance  of  the   new  sister   I    am  about  to  give 


286  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1807 

him.  The  Princess  rose  with  a  smile,  but  when  he 
had  left  the  room  her  courage  gave  way  and  she 
sank  back  fainting.  Laura  and  the  others  hurried  in 
from  the  billiard-room  beyond  the  columns  where 
they  were  waiting,  and  with  eau-de-cologne  and  fresh 
air  she  revived,  and  after  a  graceful  and  diplomatic 
farewell  continued  her  journey  to  Paris,  where  she 
was  welcomed  with  the  greatest  delight  by  the 
Emperor  and  his  family. 

Junot  left  Paris  a  few  days  after  for  his  distant 
command,  in   despair  at   being   forced  to  go. 

In  spite  of  her  approaching  confinement,  Laura 
continued  to  take  part  in  all  the  festivities  in 
honour  of  the  marriage  of  the  King  and  Queen 
of  Westphalia. 

She  was  now  so  identified  with  the  Court  of 
Napoleon,  the  family  of  Buonaparte,  and  the  friends 
of  her  husband,  that  she  was  necessarily  very  much 
removed  from  her  own  and  her  mother's  early 
connections  of  the  ancien  regime,  with  the  exception 
of  some  very  intimate  friends  such  as  the  Comte  de 
Narbonne,  the  De  Caseaux,  and  a  few  more ;  and 
she  complained  of  the  airs  given  themselves  by  some 
of  the  gra7ides  dames  of  the  faubourg  St.  Germain 
and  their  open  scorn  for  the  new  court. 

The  faubourg  St.  Germain  dressed  differently  from 
the  Imperial  court;  their  sleeves  were  longer,  their 
waists  longer,  and  they  wore  their  hair  lower  over 
the  forehead  in  imitation  of  the  Duchesse  de 
Chevrcuse,  who  was  the  leader  of  fashion  in  that 
set. 

The  Duchesse  de  Chcvreuse  and  Laura  had  been 
friends    as    young   girls,   but    the    marriage   of   one 


i8o7]  AT  XAPOLEOXS   COi'RT  287 

with  the  heir  of  a  great  house  of  the  /au/>oi/r<;-  St. 
Gcnnain,  and  the  other  with  a  conspicuous  member 
of  the  court  and  army  of  Napoleon,  had  entirely 
separated  them  for  man)'  years,  notwithstanding 
Laura's  constant  affection  for  the  Comte  de  Xar- 
bonne,  uncle  of  the  Duchess. 

The  Duchesse  de  Chevreuse  was  what  in  those 
days  was  called  "  origifiale."  Nobod}'  could  imagine 
why  she  had  not  lost  her  reputation  over  and  over 
again,  so  many  and  so  strange  were  her  escapades. 
She  presented  to  her  father-in-law,  the  Due  de 
Luynes,  a  Swedish  gentleman  covered  with  crosses 
and  orders,  whom  she  declared  to  be  of  high  rank, 
and  whom  the  Duke  received  accordingly,  but  who 
turned  out  to  be  a  well-known  beggar  of  Saint 
Roch  whom  she  had  dressed  up  for  the  pur- 
pose. 

She  made  a  bet  that  she  would  stop  one  of  her 
brothers  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night  in  the  Palais 
Ro}'al,  and  carried  out  her  intention,  to  his  great 
indignation. 

Another  time,  happening  to  hear  that  an  old 
retired  grocer  was  expecting  his  niece  b\-  the 
diligence  from  Rouen,  she  presented  herself  the 
day  before  in  her  place,  making  up  some  story  to 
account  for  her  early  arrival,  and  so  captivating  her 
supposed  uncle  that  he  wanted  to  write  and  get 
a  dispensation  from  Rome  to  marry  her. 

There  was  no  real  harm  in  the  things  she  did, 
and  for  what  was  said  of  her  she  cared  not  at  all, 
her  motto  which  she  had  engraved  upon  evcrj-thing 
was — 

Bioi  fairc  ct  laisscr  dire. 


288  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1807 

One  great  cause  for  the  enmity  of  Napoleon 
towards  her  is  said  to  have  been  her  refusal  to 
become  his  mistress  ;  and  it  seems  hardly  consistent 
with  the  political  opinions  she  professed  that  she 
should  have  consented  to  be  dainc  du  palais  to  the 
Empress.  She  was  by  far  the  most  important 
person  at  the  Hotel  de  Luynes,  where  her  husband 
was  a  nonentity  in  the  house  and  her  mother-in-law 
was  entirely  devoted  to  her.  The  Duchesse  de 
Luynes  who  had  been  Mademoiselle  de  Laval 
Montmorency,  was  very  pretty  as  a  young  girl, 
but  her  beauty  having  been  destroyed  by  small-pox, 
she  took  no  trouble  nor  interest  in  dress  or  the 
pursuits  usual  for  women  in  those  days  ;  but  made 
her  chief  happiness  in  horses  and  riding  ;  galloping 
about  the  country,  jumping  hedges  and  ditches  in 
a  manner  very  unusual  at  that  time  in  France.  Her 
husband,  on  the  other  hand,  was  always  half  asleep, 
in  fact,  so  strange  was  the  contrast  between  them 
that  her  brother,  the  Due  de  Laval,  on  being  told 
of  the  prospect  of  her  first  confinement  exclaimed, 
"  Pardieu  !  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it ;  for  that  proves 
to  me  two  things  of  which  I  was  not  sure :  that  my 
sister  is  a  woman  and  my  brother-in-law  a  man." 
The  Duchesse  de  Luynes  liked  Laura,  and  at  a 
great  ball  given  at  her  hotel,  she  said  to  her  half 
reproachfully — 

"  You  will  see  here  many  old  faces  that  will 
recall  to  you  the  traditions  in  which  you  were 
brought  up." 

Later  in  the  evening,  as  she  walked  about  with 
her  old  friend  the  Comte  de  Narbonne,  Laura,  in 
spcai<ing   of    Louis  XVIII.  called    him    "Comte  de 


i8o7]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  289 

Lille,"  the  name  by  which  the  Bonapartists  designated 
that  King. 

The  old  Count  looked  at  her  with  a  smile  and 
observed,  "  I  don't  think  \-ou  would  have  spoken 
of  him  so  ten  years  ago." 

After  the  departure  of  her  husband,  Laura  was 
at  Rainc}',  intending  to  sta\'  there  till  her  confine- 
ment was  over,  when  she  received  an  mvitation 
which  amounted  to  an  order  from  the  Emperor  to 
go  to  Fontainebleau  for  some  days. 

Not  choosing  to  risk  her  child  being  born  in  the 
palace,  she  took  a  house  in  the  town,  and  joined  as 
well  as  she  could  in  the  amusements  that  were  going 
on. 

Nothing  could  be  more  magnificent  than  the  court 
had  now  become.  The  luxur)-  that  surrounded  the 
Emperor,  the  splendour  of  the  fetes  that  perpetuall}' 
took  place,  the  excitement  of  the  intrigues  and  love 
affairs  for  which  Fontainebleau  was  so  much  better 
adapted  than  theTuileries,  would  have  been  attractive 
and  delightful  enough  to  Laura  at  any  other  time. 
But  just  now  her  health  of  course  prevented  her 
enjoyment  to  a  great  extent,  and  Junot's  letters 
from  Portugal  were  full  of  complaints  of  the 
miseries  of  the  part  in  which  he  now  was ;  a 
horrible  desert  of  which  the  delicious  climate  and 
scenery  of  Cintra  and  Estramadura  could  give  no 
idea. 

These  autumn  days  at  Fontainebleau  being  un- 
usually warm  and  bright  were  generally  spent  b\- 
the  court  in  the  forest,  where,  after  hunting  or 
shooting,  there  was  a  dcjeimcr.  Both  men  and 
women  wore  a  uniform,  with  much  more  gold,  silver, 

20 


290  .4    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1807 

velvet,  and  feathers  than  could  possibly  be  suitable 
for  sporting  purposes.  Pauline  Borghese  and 
Caroline  Murat  were  at  the  head  of  all  this  gaiet)' 
and  dissipation. 

A  young  Genoese  lectrice  in  the  household  of  the 
Grande  Duchesse  de  Berg  was  just  now  the  favourite 
mistress  of  the  Emperor,  whom  she  had  even  per- 
suaded to  allow  her  to  be  presented  at  court,  which 
no  lectrice  had  ever  thought  of  asking.  He  was 
also  persecuting  with  his  attentions  another  of  the 
ladies  of  the  household  of  one  of  his  sisters,  who 
was  nearly  always  at  the  hunting  parties  and 
dejeuners  ;  but  who  invariably  declined  his  advances. 
So  infatuated  were  many  of  the  courtiers  with  regard 
to  Napoleon,  that  it  was  remarked  that  she  must 
be  in  love  with  some  one  else  or  she  could  not  have 
resisted  him. 

The  Buonaparte  family  encouraged  these  liaisons 
out  of  spite  to  Josephine,  w^ho  with  adl  her  efforts 
to  appear  happy  and  tranquil,  could  iiot  conceal  the 
anxiety  and  depression  for  Wrhicil  she  had  only  too 
much  cause.  Besides  all  the  other  incidents  which 
contributed  to  destroy  her  happiness,  the  air  was 
full  of  rumours  of  the  divorce  she  dreaded  and 
which  her  husband's  family  were  eager  to  accomplish. 
"Madame  Junot,"  she  said  one  day  to  Laura,  "they 
will  not  be  satisfied  until  they  have  driv^en  me  from 
the  throne  of  France.  They  are  pitiless  for  me." 
It  was  of  Pauline,  Caroline,  and  Jerome  that  she 
was  speaking.  Duroc  was  also  her  enemy,  but  with 
more  justice.  On  one  occasion  when  Laura  remon- 
strated with  him  on  his  hardheartedness,  pointing 
out  the  sadness  and  melancholy  of  Josephine,  Duroc 


i8o7]  AT  NAPOLEOX'S   COURT  291 

pointed  to  Hortense  and  his  own  wife  who  happened 
to  be  together  at  the  end  of  the  room,  and  said — 

"  Look  there  !  it  is  heaven  and  hell  !  Who  did  it  ? 
Did  not  she?     Xo  !   I  have  no  pit\- !  " 

One  morning  every  one  learnt  with  surprise  that 
the  Emperor  had  left  for  Italy  during  the  night,  and 
it  afterwards  transpired  that  one  of  the  objects  of 
his  journey  was  to  meet  Lucien,  whom  he  had  not 
seen  since  the  marriage  which  had  caused  the  quarrel 
between  them  some  years  since. 

Napoleon  was  well  aware  that  of  all  his  brothers 
Lucien  was  the  onl}*  one  who  possessed  talents  and 
character  to  understand  and  assist  him,  and  being 
resolved  to  make  another  attempt  to  win  him  over, 
he  had  given  him  a  rendezvous  at  Mantua. 

Lucien  arrived  from  Rome  with  two  friends,  to 
whom  he  remarked  as  he  got  out  of  the  carriage  that 
very  likely  he  would  go  back  that  evening.  Then  he 
went  into  the  long  gallery  where  Napoleon  was 
waiting  for  him,  attended  by  Eugene  de  Beauharnais, 
Murat,  Duroc,  and  several  others.  At  a  sign  from 
the  Emperor  the\-  all  left  the  gallery,  and  the  brothers 
were  alone. 

"  Well,  Lucien,"  said  Napoleon,  after  the  first 
greetings  were  over;  "what  are  your  plans?  Will 
you  walk  in  m\'  way  now?" 

"  I  have  no  plans,"  replied  Lucien.  "  As  to  walking 
in  your  Majesty's  way,  what  does  that  mean  ?  " 

Napoleon  took  up  a  large  map  of  Europe  that  lay 
upon  a  table,  unrolled  it,  and  threw  it  before  his 
brother. 

"  Choose  any  kingdom  you  like,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  and  on  my  word,  as  your  brother  and   Emperor,  I 


292  A    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1807 

will  give  it  to  you  and  keep  you  in  it,  for  now  I  walk 
over  the  heads  of  all  the  kings  in  Europe.  Do  you 
hear  ? " 

Then  looking  earnestly  at  Lucien,  he  continued — • 

"  Lucien,  you  may  share  in  my  power.  You  have 
only  to  follow  the  path  I  point  out  to  establish  and 
maintain  the  most  magnificent  system  a  man  has 
ever  conceived.  But  to  carry  it  out  I  must  be 
seconded,  and  that  I  cannot  be  by  my  own  family. 
You  and  Joseph  are  the  only  ones  of  my  brothers 
who  can  be  of  any  use  to  me.  Louis  is  pig-headed 
and  Jerome  a  boy  without  any  capacity.  It  is  on 
you  that  ail  my  hopes  are  fixed.  Will  you  realise 
them  ?  " 

"  Before  we  go  any  further,"  said  Lucien,  "  I  must 
warn  you  that  I  am  not  changed,  my  principles  are 
the  same  as  in  1799  and  1803.  I  am  here  with 
Napoleon  the  Emperor  what  I  was  in  my  curule 
chair  on  the  18  bnnnairc.  It  is  for  }'ou  to  say  if  you 
care  to  go  on." 

The  interview  was  long  and  stormy.  Neither 
would  yield.  In  vain  did  Napoleon  use  entreaties, 
bribes,  and  threats  to  win  over  the  only  other  member 
of  his  family  whose  talents  and  character  rose  above 
mediocrity. 

The  idea  of  separating  from  his  wife  Lucien  rejected 
with  scorn,  to  the  offer  of  the  grand-duchy  of  Tuscany 
or  the  kingdom  of  Italy  he  replied  that,  were  he  to 
accept  either,  he  would  rule  according  to  his  own 
ideas  ;  the  French  troops  must  leave  his  territories, 
his  government  should  be  the  blessing,  not  the  curse 
of  his  people,  and  he  ended  by  saying  "  I  will  not  be 
your  prefect." 


iSo7] 


AT  XAPOLEOXS  CO  CRT 


293 


Napoleon  raged  and  stormed,  but  it  was  of  no 
avail.  Of  all  his  family  Lucien  had  always  been  the 
only  one  he  could  not  bully  or  browbeat,  and  he 
valued  him  all  the  more  for  that  reason.  Conse- 
quently the  more  clearly  he  saw  that  this  time  he 
was  not  going  to  have  his  own  way  the  more  furious 
he  became. 

Flinging  his  watch  on  to  the  ground  he  stamped 


LUCIEN   BUONAPARl'E,  PRINCE  OE  CAXIXO. 


upon  it  exclaiming  that  thus  he  would  break  the  wills 
of  all  who  opposed  him,  and  telling  Lucien  that  he 
was  the  head  of  the  famil\'  and  he  ought  to  obey  him 
as  if  he  were  his  father. 

"  I  am  not  your  subject,"  exclaimed  Lucien 
angril}- ;  "and  if  you  think  you  are  going  to  impose 
your  iron  }-oke  upon  me,  you  are  mistaken,  for  I  will 


294  -J    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1807 

never  put  my  head  under  it.  Remember  what  I  told 
you  at  La  Malmaison." 

During  a  discussion  at  La  Mahnaison  Lucien,  who 
disapproved  of  the  Empire  then  to  be  proclaimed, 
had  said  to  Napoleon :  "  This  Empire  which  you 
raise  by  force  and  maintain  by  violence  will  some  day 
be  destroyed  by  force  and  violence,  and  you  with  it." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  the  two  brothers  stood 
opposite  each  other  ;  between  them  was  the  table  on 
which  lay  unrolled  the  map  of  Europe.  Napoleon, 
pale  with  anger,  regained  his  composure  with  an 
effort  and  said — 

"  Think  of  what  1  have  said,  Lucien.  La  unit porte 
coiiseil.  To-morrow  I  hope  in  the  interests  of  Europe 
and  in  your  own  that  you  will  be  more  reasonable." 

They  shook  hands  and  parted.  Lucien  went 
straight  downstairs,  got  into  the  carriage  where  his 
friends  waited  for  him,  and  returned  to  Rome.  The 
next  time  the  brothers  met  the  prediction  of  Lucien 
had  been  fulfilled. 

Laura's  much  desired  son  was  born  at  Paris  ;  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  consented  to  be  his  god- 
parents. It  is  needless  to  say  that  he  was  named 
Napoleon. 

As  soon  as  her  health  was  sufficiently  re-established 
Laura  resumed  her  part  in  the  whirl  of  gaieties  which 
went  on  during  the  winter  of  1807-8,  and  to  which 
were  now  added  numbers  of  children's  parties.  It 
was  indeed  a  contrast  to  the  secluded  convent  life  of 
the  little  French  girls  of  two  generations  since ;  this 
succession  of  balls,  masquerades,  &c.,  in  which  their 
mothers  rivalled  each  other  in  the  costly  and 
picturesque  costumes  of  the  little  ones.     The  heads 


i8o7]  AT  NAPOLEOys   CO  CRT  205 

of  this  childish  society  were  the  two  httle  sons  of 
the  King  of  Holland  and  Achille  Murat,  a  trouble- 
some, spoilt  boy,  who  thought  himself  a  great 
personage  and  gave  himself  airs  accordingly,  which 
the  events  of  a  few  years  later  probably  caused  him 
to  relinquish. 

Neither  Junot  nor  Laura  had  changed  their  lavish 
expenditure  and  the  Emperor,  irritated  at  the  reports 
of  extravagance  he  heard,  sent  for  Laura  to  the 
Tuileries  one  morning,  told  her  that  he  had  decided 
to  take  Raincy  off  their  hands,  and  desired  her  to 
write  to  Junot  and  tell  him  so.  Struck  with  dismay, 
she  represented  that  Junot  did  not  wish  to  give  it  up, 
but  Napoleon  replied  that  it  was  all  nonsense,  Junot 
could  hunt  and  shoot  just  as  well  in  the  forest  of 
Saint-Germain,  and  the  expense  of  keeping  up  Raincy 
was  more  than  he  could  afford. 

"  Besides,"  he  added,  "  I  have  given  Neuilly  to  the 
Princess  Pauline,  and  I  want  a  place  for  myself  close 
to  Paris.  Raincy  will  just  suit  me,  so  there  is  an 
end  of  it." 

The  Emperor  had  by  no  means  given  up  all  hope 
of  gaining  Lucien,  and  between  1807  ^"d  1809 
various  negotiations  went  on  between  them. 

The  first  concerned  a  proposition  of  the  Emperor 
to  marry  the  eldest  daughter  of  Lucien  to  the  Prince 
of  the  Asturias,  who  had  requested  Napoleon  to  find 
him  a  wife  in  his  family.  As  the  aim  of  the  Emperor 
was  to  place  his  relations  upon  all  the  thrones  in 
Europe,  the  proposal  to  make  his  niece  the  future 
Queen  of  Spain  suited  him  very  well.  Charlotte 
Buonaparte  was  a  pretty,  high-spirited  girl  of  fifteen, 
the  eldest  daughter  of  Lucien  by  his  first  wife. 


296  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1807 

The  Emperor  sent  M.  Campi,  an  old  friend  of  the 
Buonaparte  family,  to  Lucien  with  this  proposal  and 
the  offer  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples  for  himself,  saying 
he  had  some  other  plan  for  Joseph.  He  went  so  far 
as  to  promise  that  if  Lucien  would  accept  the  crown 
of  Naples  he  should  govern  exactly  as  he  chose 
without  any  interference,  and  this  time  the  nego- 
tiations between  the  brothers  might  probably  have 
been  successful  if  Napoleon  had  not  brought  into  the 
matter  an  unlucky  instance  of  that  petty  malice 
which  formed  so  incongruous  a  part  of  his  disposition. 
Whoever  has  studied  the  life  and  character  of  Buona- 
parte can  hardly  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  strange 
way  in  which  the  meanest  and  most  contemptible 
suspicions,  jealousies,  and  rancour  were  mingled  with 
his  great  qualities,  stupendous  talents,  and  vast 
ambition.  He  carried  his  prying,  suspicious  tyranny 
into  all  kinds  of  little  domestic  details  which  might 
well  have  been  considered  beneath  his  notice  ;  and  in 
this  case  the  disappointment  of  an  ambitious  plan  for 
Lucien  and  the  irritation  caused  by  finding  that  he 
had  one  brother  who  refused  to  be  his  slave  gave  him 
a  personal  spite  against  that  brother's  wife  and  an 
obstinate  resolution  to  separate  them  which  seems  as 
surprising  as  it  was  undignified.  For  there  was  no 
shadow  of  complaint  against  Lucien's  wife.  She 
made  him  perfectly  happy,  ruled  her  household  and 
children  admirably,  shared  all  her  husband's  pursuits, 
entertained  with  hospitalit}-  and  good  taste.  Con- 
tinuing his  attempts  to  ruin  Lucien's  happiness  as  he 
had  done  that  of  Louis  and  Jerome,  he  made  the 
crown  of  Naples  depend  ujxmi  his  brother's  consenting 
to  separate  from  his  wife  ;  to  whom  he  offered  the 


i8o7l  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COl'RT  297 

duchy  of  Parma  and  two  of  her  daughters,  the  rest 
of  the  children  to  belong  to  Lucien  !  On  this  con- 
dition he  would  acknowledge  her  as  his  sister-in-law  ! 
It  was  certainly  an  improvement  upon  the  pension 
of  60,000  francs  he  allowed  Jerome's  discarded  wife, 
but  as  she  cared  much  more  to  be  the  wife  of  Lucien 
than  the  sister-in-law  of  Napoleon,  and  he  regarded 
the  offer  as  an  insult,  there  was  nothing  more  to  be 
said.  It  is  true  that  Madame  Lucien,  in  a  fit  of 
morbid,  overstrained  generosity,  sat  up  all  night 
tormenting  herself,  and  then  went  to  her  husband 
with  a  letter  in  her  hand  saying  that  for  her  children's 
sake  she  had  written  to  the  Emperor  to  accept  the 
sacrifice. 

"Where  is  the  letter?"  asked  Lucien,  and  when 
she  gave  it  to  him  he  tore  it  up  and  threw  it  on  the 
ground. 

'' Mon  ami!  mon  ami!''  exclaimed  his  wife  with 
tears;  "would  you  deprive  your  children  of  a  crown  ?" 

"  Would  I  deprive  them  of  their  mother  to  give 
them  a  crown  ? "  replied  he,  and  after  a  few  more 
observations  on  her  part  he  declared  again  that 
nothing  would  induce  him  to  separate  from  her,  and 
ended  by  saying — 

"  If  my  brother  wishes  to  give  me  back  his  friend- 
ship, let  him  do  so  without  conditions,  especially  such 
cruel  ones.  We  will  be  always  together,  mon  amit\ 
never  separated." 

The  proposals  were  declined  accordingly,  except 
that  one  regarding  Charlotte,  which  at  first  was 
accepted  and  preparations  made  for  her  departure. 
But  at  the  last  moment  Lucien's  heart  failed  him  ;  he 
said  that  he  could  not  send  his  child  unprotected  into 


29«  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1807 

a  court  of  which  he  well  knew  the  corruption  and 
vice.  Therefore  the  marriage  was  broken  off. 
Charlotte  afterwards  married  Prince  Gabrielli  in 
whose  great  Roman  palace  her  life  was  sufficiently 
splendid  and  probably  much  happier. 

The  time  had  now  arrived  when  the  Emperor 
began  to  create  a  new  noblesse,  and  not  liking,  for 
various  reasons,  to  take  old  French  titles,  he  named 
his  new  nobles  after  the  victories  and  incidents  in  his 
wars — 

One  day  when  Laura  was  in  the  pavilion  de  Flore 
at  the  Tuileries,  waiting  for  Madame  Mere,  she  met 
Savary,  who  was  greatly  excited  and  asked  her  to 
embrace  him,  as  he  had  great  news  for  her.  This 
she  declined  to  do,  observing  when  he  told  her  that 
he  was  made  a  duke — 

"  That  is  indeed  a  surprising  thing,  but  no  reason 
at  all  why  I  should  embrace  you." 

"  And  I  am  called  Due  de  Rovigo,"  he  added, 
walking  up  and  down  the  room,  looking  so  puffed 
out  with  delight  that  he  might  have  risen  in  the  air 
like  a  balloon. 

"  Well,  what  have  I  to  do  with  your  title  and  your 
ridiculous  name?  "  said  Laura,  who  could  not  endure 
him  ;  but  at  that  moment  Rapp  came  up  and  in- 
formed her  that  she  was  Duchesse  d'Abrantes,  "  the 
prettiest  name  of  the  troopT  At  dinner  she  sat  next 
Madame  Lannes,  whose  husband  had  been  created 
Due  de  Montebello,  and  who  remarked  to  her  that 
they  two  had  the  prettiest  of  the  new  titles. 

"  Well,  Madame  la  Duchesse-gouverneuse,"  said 
the  Emperor  when  he  saw  her,  "  how  do  you  like 
your  name  of  Abrantes  ?     Junot  will  be  pleased,  for 


i8o7]  AT  XAPOI.EOXS   COURT  H)C) 

it  is  a  mark  of  my  approbation.'  And  what  will  they 
say  in  your  salons  of  the  faubourg  St.  Gennain  ? 
They  will  be  rather  surprised  at  the  reinforcement  I 
send  them." 

Laura  had  still  to  fulfil  the  social  duties  belonging 
to  the  wife  of  the  Governor  of  Paris,  of  which  post 
Junot  had  not  been  deprived,  and  the  various 
misunderstandings  between  him  and  the  Emperor 
involved  interviews  and  discussions  between  herself 
and  the  latter. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Caroline  Alurat  one  day  after 
one  of  these  long  audiences,  "  that  )ou  are  perhaps 
the  only  woman  who  can  say  she  has  been  an  hour 
and  a  half  with  the  Emperor? — unless  there  were 
reasons  of  quite  a  different  kind,"  she  added,  laughing. 
"  For  I  suppose  there  are  not  ?  " 

"  If  there  were,"  replied  Laura,  laughing  too,  "  I 
should  say  nothing  about  it  either  way.  I  should 
keep  silence.  I  should  think  that  would  be  the  best 
way  to  play  that  part,  which,  however,  I  imagine  the 
Emperor  would  make  a  ver\'  difficult  one." 

"  What  part?  " 

"  That  of  favourite."  And  Laura  went  on  to  relate 
to  Caroline  how  a  short  time  since  at  a  masked  ball 
she  was  standing  close  to  the  Emperor  and  one  of  his 

'  "  Without  money,  witliout  transport,  without  ammunition  sufficient 
for  a  general  action  .  .  .  Junot  led  a  raw  army  through  the  mountains 
of  Portugal  on  the  most  difficult  and  dangerous  line  by  which  that 
country  can  be  invaded.  .  .  .  Trusting  to  the  rapidity  of  his  move- 
ments and  the  renown  of  the  French  arms,  he  made  his  way  through 
Lower  Heira  and  suddenly  appeared  in  the  town  of  Abrantes  .  .  . 
pressed  forward  and  reached  Lisbon  in  time  to  see  the  fleet  having  the 
royal  family  on  board  clearing  the  mouth  of  the  Tagus."  (Xapier's 
"  Peninsular  War,"  vol.  i.  p.  88.) 


300  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1807 

favourites,  both  of  whom  she  recognised  and  over- 
heard. "  Prrrrr !  "  exclaimed  Napoleon,  in  reply  to 
some  speech  of  his  companion's,  "there  you  are,  like 
all  the  rest,  with  your  imbecile  reveries.  The  heart ! 
What  the  devil  do  you  think  the  heart  is  ?  A  part  of 
yourself  through  which  a  large  vein  carries  the  blood 
quickly  when  you  run.  Well !  What  is  that  ?  See 
what  your  romantic  arrangements  lead  to.  There  is 
a  poor  girl  who  has  believed  the  soft  speeches  of 
Murat  and  is  probably  ready  to  drown  herself  What 
do  you  think  of  that,  eh  ?  "  There  was  a  low  sound 
of  sobs,  and  the  Emperor  said  impatiently — 

"  Ma  cJicre,  I  do  not  like  even  to  see  Josephine 
cry,  and  she  is  the  woman  I  love  above  all  others. 
Therefore  you  are  losing  your  time.  Adieu.  I  came 
to  the  masked  ball  to  amuse  myself"  And  he  walked 
away  and  joined  Rapp  and  Duroc. 

Junot  sent  his  wife  for  her  New  Year's  present  a 
diamond  clasp,  a  magnificent  set  of  sapphires,  another 
of  rubies,  and  a  third  of  aqua-marines,  a  string  of 
pearls,  and  a  box  of  uncut  diamonds  which  he  advised 
her  to  have  cut  in  Brussels,  Antwerp,  or  Holland. 
For  her  uncle,  the  Abbe  de  Comnenus,  he  sent  a  box 
made  of  jasper  with  a  cameo  of  the  Pope.  He  desired 
her  to  get  another  country  house  instead  of  Raincy, 
and  as  the  summer  approached  she  took  one  at 
Neuilly  with  an  orangery,  theatre  or  salle  de  spectacle, 
conservatories,  shady  gardens  and  park,  and  a  trellised 
walk  along  a  canal.  There  she  took  up  her  abode 
for  the  hot  weather  with  her  children  and  Madame 
Lallemand.  They  drove  into  Paris  after  dinner  to 
the  theatres,  rode  in  the  mornings,  had  private 
theatricals,  and  amused  themselves  extremely. 


i8o7]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S  COl'h'T  301 

Napoleon's  attack  upon  Portugal,  the  friend  of 
England,  was  only  a  preliminary  to  the  French 
troops  being  poured  into  Spain.  I'erdinand,  Prince 
of  the  Asturias,  whose  young  wife  had  died  under 
strong  suspicions  of  poison,  ascribed  her  death  to  the 
machinations  of  his  mother,  who  hated  her,  and  to 
Manuel  Godoy,  the  paramour  of  the  Queen,  who  had 
been  raised  to  be  Prime  Minister  of  Spain.  Ferdi- 
nand, who  had  been  passionately  attached  to  his 
wife,  was  for  some  time  nearly  mad  with  grief  His 
father,  Charles  IV.,  a  weak  old  man,  was  governed 
by  the  Queen  and  Godoy.  The  court  and  royal 
family  were  rent  by  the  dissensions  between  the 
King  and  Queen  and  their  son,  who  wrote  secretl}" 
to  Napoleon  asking  him  to  interfere  and  to  give  him 
a  wife  of  the  Buonaparte  family.  This  was  the 
beginning  of  the  disastrous  war  between  France  and 
Spain,  in  which  the  English,  having  taken  part,  the 
victorious  career  of  France  began  to  be  checked  and 
the  vast  designs  of  Buonaparte  defeated.    . 

Early  in  September  the  Emperor  returned  to  Paris, 
after  having  spent  most  of  the  summer  at  Bayonne 
occupying  himself  with  the  affairs  of  what  we  are 
now  accustomed  to  call  the  Peninsular  War. 

For  the  first  time  Laura  observed  a  difference  in 
the  feeling  of  the  Parisians  for  Napoleon,  and  a 
certain  uneasiness  caused  b\'  the  fact  of  no  news 
whatever  having  been  recei\ed  from  the  army  in 
Portugal  for  two  months.  She  herself  was  in  great 
anxiety,  and  wrote  to  the  Emperor  on  his  return, 
begging  him  to  give  her  the  assurance  that  Junot 
was  alive.  Several  days  passed  without  any  answer, 
and    then    Cambaceres    came    to   tell    her    that    she 


302  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1807 

need  have  no  fear  for  Junot,  but  that  the  Emperor 
thought  it  strange  that  she  should  permit  herself  to 
question  him  on  a  political  matter.  Not  in  the  least 
afraid  of  Napoleon,  but  not  feeling  reassured,  Laura 
wrote  to  him  again  to  ask  for  an  audience. 

There  was  going  to  be  a  great  ball  at  the  Hotel- 
de-Ville  in  honour  of  Napoleon,  and  as  wife  of  the 
Governor  she  would  be  obliged  to  receive  the  guests. 
This  she  resolved  not  to  do  unless  she  were  certain 
that  nothing  had  happened  to  her  husband. 

The  Emperor  appointed  an  audience  at  Saint- 
Cloud  at  nine  in  the  evening.  When  she  entered 
he  was  standing  at  the  open  door  leading  from  his 
room  into  the  garden,  looking  absent  and  disturbed. 
He  turned  as  she  entered. 

"  Why  cannot  you  believe  what  I  tell  you  ? "  he 
began  angrily.  "  Your  husband  is  all  right.  What 
is  the  meaning  oi  yowx  jcrcuiiades  de  femuielette?'' 

"  Sire,  I  have  felt  reassured  since  your  Majesty  was 
good  enough  to  say  I  might  be ;  but  in  the  position 
I  now  hold  I  have  come  to  ask  your  Majesty  to 
excuse  me  from  appearing  at  the  H6tel-de-Ville 
to-morrow." 

"  Eh  !  what  do  you  sa}-  ?  Not  go  to  the  H6tel-de- 
Ville  !     And  why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  afraid  something  has  happened  to 
Junot,  sire.  I  beg  your  Majesty's  pardon,  but  I  have 
no  news  of  Junot,  and,  I  repeat,  your  Majesty  has 
none  either.  I  will  not  risk  receiving  the  news  of  his 
death  in  the  middle  of  a  ball." 

The  Emperor  looked  angril}'  at  her,  but  he 
restrained  himself,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said — 

"  I  have  told  you  that  your  husband  is  quite  well — 


i8o7]  AT  WAPOLEONS   COURT  303 

why  will  you  not  believe  me?  I  can't  give  you  proofs, 
but  I  give  you  my  word." 

"  Of  course  that  is  enough  for  me,  sire ;  but  I 
cannot  write  it  in  a  circular  to  the  four  thousand 
people  who  will  be  at  the  ball,  and  who  will  think 
it  very  strange  to  see  me  there  when  I  have  such 
cause  for  uneasiness." 

"  And  why  should  four  thousand  people  know  you 
are  uneasy?"  exclaimed  Napoleon  in  a  terrible  voice, 
coming  forward  impetuousl)'.  "  There  is  the  result  of 
all  your  conciliahiilcs  de  salon  and  gossiping  with  m\' 
enemies.  You  declaim  against  me  and  attack  all 
that  I  do.  There  is  the  Prussian  Minister,  who  is  a 
friend  of  yours,  and  who  was  speaking  lately  in  your 
house  of  my  tyranny  to  his  King.  I  am  a  very  cruel 
tyrant,  certainly !  If  their  great  Frederick  that  they 
make  such  a  noise  about  had  had  to  punish  all  the 
disloyalty  I  have,  he  would  have  done  a  good  deal 
more ;  and,  after  all,  Glogaw  and  Kustrin  will  be 
much  better  guarded  b}'  my  troops  than  by  the 
Prussians,  who  have  no  reason  to  be  proud  of  the 
way  they  defended  them." 

It  was  about  the  tenth  time  since  her  return  from 
Portugal  that  Napoleon  had  repeated  to  Laura  things 
said  in  her  salon,  which  had  always  been  true  until 
now.  This,  however,  she  felt  certain  to  be  incorrect, 
and  she  said  so.  Then,  as  she  took  her  leave,  he 
observed — 

"  I  forbid  you  to  repeat  what  I  have  said  to  you. 
Remember,  and  take  care  to  obey  me,  or  you  will 
have  to  reckon  with  me !  " 

"  I  will  obe\'  you,  sire,  not  from  fear  of  your  anger, 
but  because  I  don't  wish  to  blush  before  vanquished 


304  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1807 

foreigners  in  betraying  our  internal  dissensions,"  and 
she  repeated  her  desire  not  to  be  present  at  the  ball 
at  the  H6tel-de-Ville,  where  her  position  would  be 
immediately  after  the  Empress,  considering  the 
reports  about  the  army  of  Portugal. 

"  And  what  reports  are  there  ?  "  asked  Napoleon  in 
a  voice  that  half  frightened  her,  so  that  she  replied 
in  a  low  voice — 

"  They  say  the  army  is  lost,  that  Junot  has  been 
forced  to  capitulate  like  Dupont,  and  that  the  English 
have  carried  him  prisoner  to  Brazil." 

"  It  is  false — false,  I  tell  you  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
swearing  and  striking  the  table  with  such  violence 
that  a  heap  of  papers  fell  to  the  ground.  "  Junot 
capitulate  like  Dupont ! — it  is  all  a  lie  ;  but  precisely 
because  they  say  so  you  ought  to  ^o  to  the  H6tel-de- 
Ville.  You  must  go  there,  even  if  you  were  ill — )'ou 
understand.     It  is  my  will.     Good-night." 


CHAPTER   XIX 

1 808-1810 

IN  obedience  to  the  Emperor  Laura  appeared 
at  the  H6tel-de-Ville.  The  fete,  although  as 
magnificent  as  usual,  was  most  melancholy,  for  the 
minds  of  all  present  were  full  of  misgivings.  A  de- 
cree had  already  authorised  the  levy  of  80.OOO  con- 
scripts for  the  war,  and  it  was  proposed  that  80,000 
more — these  being  lads  of  eighteen,  or  even  younger — 
should  be  raised  to  defend  the  coasts.  The  Parisians 
seemed  under  a  kind  of  stupor.  The  Emperor  knew 
well  that  the  absence  of  Laura  would  give  confir- 
mation to  the  reports  circulating  about  the  fate  of 
Junot  and  his  army  ;  and  probably  that  the  battle 
of  Vimeiro  had  already  been  fought,  in  which 
Junot  had  been  beaten  and  the  army  only  escaped 
destruction  by  the  victorious  movements  of  Sir 
Arthur  VVellesley  having  been  checked  by  Sir  Harry 
Burrard.  ^ 

•  Sir  Harry  Burrard  was  reaiUed  and  tried  for  his  mistaken  conduct 
in  this  matter.  Junot's  mismanagement  of  this  campaign  enraged 
Napoleon,  who  is  .said  to  have  exclaimed,  "  I  was  going  to  send  Junot 
before  a  Council  of  War,  when  fortunately  the  Knglish  tried  their 
generals  and  s;ived  me  the  pain  of  punishing  an  old  friend."  ("'  Penin- 
sular War,'"  Napier,  vol.  i.  p.  173.) 

21  30s 


3o6  .J    LEADER   OF   SOCIET\  [i 808-1 810 

With  a  sinking  heart  and  an  aching  head  Laura 
received  the  guests  at  the  H6tel-de-VilIe.  The 
Empress,  in  deepest  dejection,  appeared  only  for 
a  short  time,  and  left  before  supper,  at  which  Laura 
entertained  the  most  distinguished  of  the  French  and 
foreign  society  in  a  separate  room. 

The  Treaty  of  Cintra,  concluded  by  Junot  with  the 
English  after  the  defeat  of  Vimeiro,  caused  great  dis- 
satisfaction in  England  as  being  too  favourable  to 
France,  and  did  not  mitigate  the  wrath  of  Napoleon. 

The  troops  were  to  return  to  France  and  Junot  with 
them.  He  had  been  leading  his  usual  dissipated  life 
in  Portugal,  and  a  paragraph  in  an  English  paper  was 
shown  to  Laura  which  remarked  that  they  had  taken 
General  Junot's  seraglio  again.  About  those  affairs 
of  her  husband's,  however,  she  did  not  trouble  herself 
but  made  a  hurried  journe\-  to  La  Rochelle  to  meet  him, 
for  the  Emperor  would  not  allow  him  to  come  to  Paris. 

Taking  with  her  the  wife  of  Junot's  first  aide-de- 
camp, two  maids,  and  three  well-armed  men,  for 
Poitou  was  just  then  infested  by  a  band  of  robbers, 
she  travelled  night  and  day,  enjoying  the  journey 
with  her  usual  light-hearted,  adventurous  spirits.  The 
two  maids,  to  one  of  whom,  who  had  lived  with  her 
mother,  she  was  much  attached,  were  in  the  first 
carriage,  with  an  armed  valct-dc-cliaiubrc  riding  in 
front  of  them  ;  in  the  second  she  herself  and  her 
friend,  Madame  de  (irandsaigne,  with  the  other  two 
men  on  the  box. 

On  the  second  night  they  were  travelling  along 
the  banks  of  the  Loire  between  Blois  and  Tours,  and 
Laura  was  lying  back,  dreamih'  watching  the  river 
glistening    in    the    moonlight,    when    suddenly    the 


icSoS-i8io]  .17"  \APOLEOXS   COrRT  307 

carriage  stopped.  Putting  her  head  out  of  the 
window  she  saw  the  postih'oii  of  the  other  carriage 
dead  drunk  in  the  road. 

" Mou  Dieu  !"  she  exclaimed,  "what  has  become 
of  the  other  calklie  ?  " 

There  was  a  general  commotion. 

"  Instead  of  abusing  \'our  comrade,  who  cannot 
hear  you,"  she  said  to  one  of  the  postilions,  "take one 
of  the  horses  and  push  on  to  see  what  has  become  of 
them."  And  ordering  the  other  one  to  "  arrange  the 
drunken  man  as  well  as  he  could  upon  one  of  the 
horses,"  for  she  feared  to  leave  him  in  the  dangerous 
state  of  the  countrj',  they  drove  on,  and  soon  arrived 
at  the  next  stage,  where  before  the  inn  door  stood 
the  calcclie  with  the  valet-de-chanibre  standing  by  it 
and  the  two  women  fast  asleep  inside — which,  as  she 
remarked,  was  fortunate  for  them,  as  if  they  had 
been  awake  they  would  certainly  have  screamed, 
frightened  the  horses,  and  been  upset  into  the  Loire. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  they  arrived  at  La 
Rochelle,  where  Laura  found  Junot  waiting  for  her  in 
a  charming  apartment  which  had  been  lent  them,  and 
her  bath  and  breakfast  prepared. 

They  sent  for  their  three  children  at  once.  Junot 
had  never  seen  the  boy  with  whose  birth  he  was 
so  delighted,  and  they  spent  a  month  with  their 
parents  at  La  Rochelle,  during  which  Junot  made 
a  hurried  journey  to  meet  the  Emperor  at  Angou- 
leme,  coming  back  depressed  b\'  his  reception  of 
him.  Then  he  returned  to  Spain,  and  Laura,  with 
her  children,  took  the  road  back  to  I'aris. 

The  passing  love  affairs  of  Junot  in  Spain  had 
caused    no   estrangement   between  him    and    Laura, 


3o8  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1808-1810 

who  told  him  of  the  newspaper  report  and  laughed 
at  him.     "  Did  you  love  them  all  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  no  ;  none  of  them." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it." 

"  Yes,  by  my  faith  !  Well,  then,  I  swear  it  by  your- 
self. I  tell  you  truly,  when  I  have  been  distracted 
from  the  straight  path,  my  dear  Laura,  I  deplore  the 
cause  more  than  I  cared  for  the  object." 

To  one  of  the  ladies  in  question,  the  Countess 
da  Ega,  who  had  been  very  much  talked  of  with 
Junot,  Laura  afterwards  showed  much  attention  and 
kindness  in  Paris  to  prove  that  the  gossip  and  scandal 
of  society  did  not  affect  her. 

The  Emperor  was  now  in  Spain,  and  besides  the 
hitherto  unsuccessful  campaign  in  that  country  there 
were  disquieting  rumours  both  from  Italy  and  Ger- 
many. Napoleon  had  ordered  Junot  to  take  Sara- 
gossa,  which  he  was  accordingly  besieging.  His 
letters  to  Laura  were  tinged  with  melancholy  and 
foreboding  ;  the  horrors  of  the  siege  he  declared  to  be 
insupportable  to  any  one  who  had  not  a  heart  of 
stone.  He  had  a  friend  in  Saragossa  for  whose  safety 
he  feared  ;  and  the  old  wounds  in  his  head,  especially 
a  scar  which  went  along  the  left  cheek  close  to  the 
eye,  were  causing  him  great  suffering.  On  January 
1 8th  he  wrote  to  her  that  only  the  thought  of  her 
and  his  children  prevented  his  committing  suicide. 
The  coldness  and  displeasure  of  the  lunperor  preyed 
upon  his  mind,  and  his  good  fortune  seemed  to 
have  deserted  him.  When  he  entered  Portugal, 
power,  honour,  fame,  even  a  throne  were  within  his 
view  I — but  now ! 

'   "  I'cninsuliir  War,"  Napier,  vol.  i.  p.  173. 


i8o8-i8io]  AT  XA  POL  FOX'S  CO  CRT  :,cx) 

Laura  was  anxious  and  unhapj)}*,  her  i^reatest  con- 
solation being  the  constant  society  of  her  brother, 
who  was  now  in  Paris,  and  to  whose  unchanging 
afiection  and   friendship  she  always  turned. 

Society  was  as  brilliant  as  ever  this  winter,  but 
there  was  a  difference  ;  an  undercurrent  of  depression 
and  uncertainty  seemed  to  be  universally  felt.  The 
Emperor  had  returned  from  Spain,  and  was  again  at 
the  Tuileries.  He  sent  Lannes  to  supersede  Junot  in 
the  chief  command  at  Saragossa,  which  naturally  did 
not  improve  the  spirits  of  the  latter,  and  the  exile  of 
Madame  Rccamier,  for  whom  Junot  entertained  an 
enthusiastic  admiration,  was  a  new  grief  to  him. 

Napoleon  had  disliked  Madame  de  Stael,  declared 
she  was  his  enemy,  and  exiled  her  from  France  ;  but 
if  he  found  her  talents  or  intrigues  in  political  matters 
troublesome,  the  same  could  not  be  said  of  Madame 
Rccamier,  whose  popularity  and  celebrity  arose  from 
her  extraordinar}'  beauty  and  sweetness  of  temper, 
but  who  was  content  to  amuse  herself  in  a  harmless 
way,  doing  all  the  good  in  her  power,  but  pos- 
sessing neither  talents  nor  inclination  for  politics 
or  conspiracies. 

The  ostensible  reason  for  this  act  of  tyranny  was  a 
visit  she  had  paid  to  her  unlucky  friend  Madame  de 
Stael,  at  Coppet,  on  the  Lake  of  Geneva  ;  but  in  the 
opinion  of  Laura,  Junot,  and  man)-  others,  it  was  to 
be  attributed  to  the  following  cause.  Fouchc  who, 
of  all  the  villainous  characters  produced  and  fostered 
by  the  revolution,  was  one  of  the  most  cruel,  remorse- 
less, time-serving,  and  influential,  and  who  was  now 
Minister  of  Police,  came  to  see  Madame  Rccamier, 
and  suggested  to  her  that  she  should  become  one  of 


5io  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1808-1810 

the  ladies  of  honour  of  the  Empress — a  proposal 
which  she  declined,  saying  that  the  household  of  the 
Empress  was  already  filled  up,  and  that  she  did  not 
desire  any  post  in  it,  preferring  her  liberty,  and 
already  possessing  all  she  wanted. 

For,  as  the  wife  of  a  rich  banker  much  older  than 
herself  and  eager  to  give  her  whatever  she  fancied, 
universally  admired  and  respected,  with  numbers  of 
friends  and  a  blameless  reputation,  she  was  perfectly 
contented  with  her  lot,  and  listened  with  reluctance 
to  Fouche's  assurances  that  the  Emperor  was  in  need 
of  a  friend  like  herself,  who  would  understand  and 
sympathise  with  him,  in  whom  he  could  confide,  and 
with  whom  he  could  associate  intimatel}',  but  as  a 
friend  only,  without  love,  jealousy,  or  any  agitating 
elements  to  disturb  the  calmness  of  their  inter- 
course. 

Madame  Recamier  heard  all  this  with  incredulity, 
for  she  knew  perfectly  well  that  this  was  not  at 
all  the  sort  of  friend  the  Emperor  ever  wanted  ; 
but  the  insidious  and  frequent  representations  of 
Fouche,  and  his  suggestions  as  to  the  untold  good 
her  influence  might  produce,  began  to  take  effect 
upon  her  mind. 

One  day,  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  she  was  invited  to 
dejeuner  with  one  of  the  sisters  of  Napoleon,  who, 
after  leading  the  conversation  on  to  the  subject  of 
the  charm  of  a  blameless  friendship  between  a  man 
and  woman  of  good  reputation,  observed  that  such  a 
friendship  was  what  the  Emperor  required  but  was 
impossible  to  find  amongst  the  women  with  whom  he 
was  surrounded.  She  then  asked  Madame  Recamier 
if  she   cared   for   the  theatres,  and    whicii    she    pre- 


MME.  RECAMIER. 

(Gerard.) 


312  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i 808-1810 

ferred,  and  on  being  told  the  Comedie  Francaise, 
exclaimed — 

"  Oh,  well !  then  you  must  accept  my  box  there.  It 
is  on  the  ground  floor ;  you  can  go  there  without 
making  any  toilette  ;  promise  me  you  will." 

Madame  Recamier  unsuspiciously  promised,  and 
the  next  morning,  to  her  astonishment,  received  a 
letter  from  the  Administration  of  the  Comedie  Fran- 
caise informing  her  that  the  Princess  had  ordered  free 
entry  to  be  given  to  her  into  her  box,  and  that  when- 
ever she,  Madame  Recamier,  was  there  nobody  else 
was  to  be  admitted  without  the  special  permission  of 
the  said  Madame  Recamier. 

This  box  from  which  ever}^  one  else  was  to 
be  excluded  was  exactly  opposite  that  of  the 
Emperor,  and  when  Madame  Recamier  read  this 
singular  letter  she  at  once  perceived  the  meaning 
of  it  all.  She  expressed  her  thanks  for  the  offer, 
but  took  care  never  to  avail  herself  of  it. 

It  is  difficult  to  see  why  Laura  in  after  life,  when 
speaking  of  Sir  William  Napier's  "  History  of  the 
Peninsular  War,"  should  express  such  indignation  at 
the  remarks  of  that  officer  concerning  Junot,  for  all 
he  says  of  him  is  confirmed  by  her  own  writings.  He 
describes  him  as  by  no  means  cruel,  but  sensual,  dis- 
sipated, passionate,  and  extravagant,  at  the  same  time 
capricious  and  generous.  Of  considerable  natural 
capacity,  but  lacking  study  and  mental  discipline, 
indolent  in  business,  prompt  and  brave  in  action, 
arrogant  and  quick  to  give  offence,  but  ready  to 
forget  an  injury  ;  at  one  moment  a  great  man,  the 
next  below  mediocrity.  He  was,  however,  less  greedy 
and  rapacious  than  Lannes,  Soult,  and  many  of  the 


i8o8-i8io]  AT  \APOLEOS''S   COURT  313 

Other  French  generals,  who  stole  the  treasures  even  of 
convents,  cut  \aluable  pictures  out  of  their  frames 
and  carried  them  off  even  when  the\'  did  not  allow 
them  to  be  wantonl)-  destro}'ed  bj'  their  officers  and 
men.'  Junot  declared  he  boui^htand  paid  for  all  the 
jewels  he  sent  Laura  which  caused  so  much  gossip 
and  commotion  in  Paris. 

A  new  campaign  was  now  beginning  in  Germany 
in  which  he  was  eager  to  join,  and  Laura,  alarmed  b)' 
his  letters  and  anxious  about  his  health,  asked  Duroc 
to  obtain  an  audience  for  her  with  the  Emperor.  Her 
intimate  acquaintance  with  that  general  had  excited 
the  suspicions  of  Xa})oleon,  who  observed  to  him  that 
he  iseemed  to  take  a  great  interest  in  Madame  Junot, 
and  asked  him  upon  his  honour  whether  he  were 
not  in  love  with  her. 

Duroc  explained  that  there  was  only  a  strong  and 
sincere  friendship  between  them,  and  the  Emperor, 
taking  several  pinches  of  snuff,  looked  at  him 
fixedl}-  and  said,  after  a  few  moments'  reflections. 
"  Well,  it  is  very  singular  !  " 

"It  is  his  ideas  that  are  very  singular,"  observed 
Laura,  to  whom  Duroc  repeated  this  conversation  ; 
"  and  I  believe  he  is  always  astonished  when  he  finds 
any  good  in  a  woman."  Duroc  also  told  her  that  the 
Emperor  had  said  that  he  had  had  a  great  affection 
for  Madame  Permon,  and  took  a  paternal  interest  in 
herself,  but  that  he  wished  she  would  not  make  her 
intimate  friends  amongst  his  enemies,  or  wear  so  many 
and  such  large  diamonds.  He  promised,  however, 
that  Junot  should  be  recalled  in  a  fortnight,  and 
Bessieres  sent  in  his  place. 

'   ••  Peninsular  War,"  Napier,  vol.  i.  p.  95,  iS:c. 


314  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i8o8-]8io 

When  he  arrived,  both  he  and  Laura  were  shocked 
at  the  change  in  each  other.  Junot,  however,  after 
three  weeks  of  a  course  of  baths  was  much  better,  and 
ready  to  go  to  Germany,  where  the  Emperor  had 
given  him  a  secondary  command.  Before  he  started 
he  saw  Laura  set  off  for  the  Pyrenees,  under  the  care 
of  Madame  Lallemand  and  M.  de  Cherval,  two  of  her 
intimate  friends. 

She  performed  the  journey  lying  at  full  length  in 
the  carriage,  and  was  met  at  Bordeaux  by  her 
brother-in-law,  M.  de  Geouffre,  to  whom  she  seemed 
at  death's  door.  But  after  a  week  at  Cauterets  she 
was  much  better,  and  spent  the  rest  of  her  sojourn 
in  that  enchanting  place,  then  so  little  known,  in 
excursions  amongst  the  mountains,  upon  which  she 
was  never  tired  of  watching  the  sun  setting  over  the 
ice  and  snow,  and  all  those  marvellous  effects  of 
which  the  ever-changing  panorama  only  presents 
itself  to  us  in  scenery  like  this.  With  her  intense 
love  of  beauty,  Laura  entered  thoroughly  into  the 
fascination  of  the  place,  although  her  mind  was  dis- 
turbed by  the  letters  from  Germany,  where  the  war 
raged  more  furiously  than  ever. 

Victory  after  victory  again  attended  the  armies  of 
Napoleon,  but  at  last  even  the  Parisians  began  to 
murmur  at  the  fearful  slaughter  and  the  numbers  of 
families  thrown  into  mourning.  The  battles  of 
P^ssling  and  Wagram  were  especiall}'  remarkable  for 
their  horrible  carnage,  and  the  French  troops  overran 
PViulia,  Styria,  I  stria,  and  the  Vorarlberg. 

Lannes  was  killed  in  the  battle  of  Essling,  and 
in  spite  of  their  recent  coolness  Junot  and  Laura 
mourned  for  him  sincere!\-.     It  was  observed  that  the 


i8o8-i«io]  AT  XAPOI.EOX'S  COURT  :,\S 

Emperor  only  regretted  the  loss  of  the  valuable 
treneral,  and  cared  nothing  about  that  of  the  old 
friend.  Lanncs  had  al\va}'s  been  too  little  of  a 
courtier  and  too  much  of  an  old  comrade  to  jjlease 
him. 

The  Emperor  returned  in  triumph  to  Paris,  and 
Junot  also;  but  a  kind  of  depression  and  constraint 
seemed  to  pervade  society.  I'olitics  were  only  talked 
of  in  whispers,  but  every  one's  mind  was  secretly 
occupied  with  the  prospect  of  the  di\orce  of  the 
Emperor.  His  family  for  the  most  part  were  de- 
lighted, but  the  people  murmured,  for  Josephine  was 
popular,  and  her  evident  unhappiness  excited  their 
compassion. 

The  manner  in  which  Napoleon  made  public  his 
intention  was  as  heartle.ss  as  usual. 

There  was  to  be  a  grand  ball  on  the  2nd  of  De- 
cember at  the  H6tel-de-\'ille,  of  which  the  court)ard 
was  to  be  turned  into  an  immense  ballroom. 

It  was  the  business  of  Count  Erochot  to  arrange 
everything,  and  Laura  gave  him  the  list  of  the  ladies 
she  had  chosen  to  help  her  to  receive  the  Empress. 
She  went  to  the  H6tel-de-Ville  in  good  time,  and 
found  them  waiting  for  her  in  the  salon,  leading  on 
to  the  staircase.  Presently  the  Count  de  Segur  came 
in,  and  taking  her  aside  into  a  recess  in  a  window, 
told  her  that  they  were  not  to  wait  for  the  P2mpress, 
who  would  only  be  received  by  Count  Erochot. 

"  Why  is  this  ?  "  asked  Laura,  looking  thunderstruck. 

"  I  don't  know — or  rather  I  do  know,  but  I  must 
not  say  "  ;  and  he  proceeded  to  explain  that  Napoleon 
did  not  wish  Laura  to  sa)'  that  this  order  came  from 
him. 


3i6  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1808-1810 

''Eh!  bontc  divine!''  exclaimed  she;  "then  what 
am  I  to  say?  Am  I  to  go  and  tell  ces  dames  that  it  is 
a  caprice  of  my  own  that  prevents  my  going  to  meet 
the  Empress  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  Prettx'  women  may  do  as  they 
like ^" 

Laura  shrugged  her  shoulders  angrily. 

"If  only   M.    de    Narbonne    were    here "    she 

began,  thinking  aloud. 

"  Ah  !  nous  y  voila  !  and  why  ?  Don't  you  think  I 
can  give  you  as  good  advice  as  Narbonne  ?  What 
little  good  sense  he  possesses  he  got  from  me." 

"  Then  that  is  why  you  have  so  little  left,"  retorted 
she.  "  Come,  try  to  help  me  a  little,  I  don't  know 
what  to  do." 

He  then  explained  that  the  Empress  would  arrive 
alone  with  her  ladies,  and  the  Queen  of  Naples 
would  accompany  the  Emperor.  While  they  were 
discussing  the  matter  Junot  and  Count  Frochot  came 
in  and  were  horrified  to  hear  what  was  to  be  done. 
However,  Junot  observed  that  there  was  no  time  to 
be  lost,  if  such  were  the  Emperor's  orders  Laura  and 
the  other  ladies  of  the  Court  must  go  at  once  to  the 
salle  du  Trone ;  and  immediately  afterwards  the 
sound  of  drums  announced  the  arrival  of  the  Empress. 
Junot,  in  defiance  of  the  Emperor's  anger,  remained 
to  receive  her,  and  entered  the  salle  du  Ti'cme  with 
her  and  her  ladies  of  honour. 

Josephine  had  never  looked  more  graceful  and 
charming  than  on  this  evening  as  she  passed  through 
the  long  gallery  and  anterooms,  and  entered  the 
salle  du  Trone.  With  a  melancholy  smile,  trembling 
lips,  and  eyes  full  of  tears,  she  seated  herself  for  the 


i8o8-i8io]  AT   X.iPOLKONS   COrRT  317 

last  time  upon  the  throne,  casting  a  piteous  look  at 
Laura,  who  could  hardly  restrain  herself  from  throw- 
ing herself  at  her  feet  and  expressing  her  sympathy. 

Onl\'  a  few  days  before,  as  they  walked  in  the  con- 
servatory at  La  Malmaison,  Josephine  had  poured 
her  grief  and  despair  into  Laura's  cars,  and  Laura's 
child,  who  was  playing  about  them,  seeing  her  god- 
mother in  tears,  had  thrown  her  arms  round  her 
exclaiming,  "  Je  ne  veux  pas  que  tu  pleures." 

That  evening  was  intolerable  to  Laura.  The 
Emperor  arrived  soon  after  and  walked  rapidly  into 
the  salle  dii  Tronc  accompanied  by  Caroline  and 
Jerome.  All  the  time  he  remained  he  was  evidently 
trying  to  make  himself  agreeable,  and  to  seem  at 
ease,  but  there  was  an  evident  constraint  about  him, 
and  the  gloom  and  depression  became  more  and 
more  diffused  as  the  hours  went  by.  The  heat  was 
overpowering,  and  Laura,  oppressed  by  that  as  well 
as  by  the  agitation  she  could  not  overcome,  fainted. 

Junot,  dreadful]}'  alarmed,  caught  her  in  his  arms, 
and  carried  her  into  Count  Frochot's  room,  where  he 
tore  open  her  dress,  cutting  strings  and  laces  wherever 
he  found  them  to  enable  her  to  breathe.  Then, 
wrapping  her  in  a  shawl,  he  put  her  into  her  carriage 
and  took  her  home.  Thus  ended  this  disastrous 
evening. 

In  his  haste  he  left  her  diamonds  behind,  and 
forgot  all  about  them.  They  were,  however,  safely 
returned  next  morning. 

The  divorce  was  declared  soon  afterwards,  and  the 
deepest  compassion  was  felt  for  Josephine.  Laura 
went  often  to  La  Malmaison,  which  was  thronged  with 
the  friends  and  sympathisers  of  Josephine,  many  of 


3i8  .4    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1808-1810 

whom,  especiall}-  amongst  the  lower  classes  of  the 
people,  declared  that  Napoleon's  star  was  on  the  wane. 

His  quarrel  with  Pius  VII.  was  the  next  proceed- 
ing which  caused  still  further  indignation.  He  seized 
the  States  of  the  Church,  and  made  the  Pope  prisoner  ; 
in  which  iniquitous  acts  he  was  vehemently  opposed 
by  Lucien  who,  utterly  disgusted  at  the  tyranny  and 
oppression  practised  by  his  brother,  resolved  to 
abandon  Europe  for  ever,  and  sailed  for  America 
with  his  famil}'.  But  the  vessel  was  taken  by  the 
English,  and  Lucien  and  his  family  carried  prisoners 
to  Malta,  whence  in  the  spring  they  were  transferred 
to  England.  There  he  bought  an  estate  near 
Worcester,  and,  installing  himself  and  his  family, 
he  passed  the  time  of  his  detention  peacefully  and 
happily  enough  with  his  studies,  surrounded  by  a 
large  circle  of  friends,  both  French  and  English. 

Since  the  horrors  of  the  Revolution  had  come  to  an 
end  Paris  had  never  been  so  /ris/t'  as  during  the 
winter  of  18 10.  The  Emperor  wished  it  to  be  gay, 
but  his  orders  and  attempts  were  unsuccessful.  There 
was  no  head  to  society ;  the  Queen  of  Naples,  who 
tried  to  assume  that  position,  was  disliked  ;  people 
said  that  her  parties  were  dull,  the  onh'  amusement 
to  be  got  at  them  being  to  see  how  ridiculous  she 
made  herself  by  her  singing,  which  was  atrocious. 

All  the  royal  and  exalted  personages,  of  whom 
there  were  many  at  Paris  that  year,  went  down  to 
La  Malmaison  to  pay  their  respects  to  Josephine,  to 
whom  their  visits,  though  jjartly  painful,  were  at  the 
same  time  a  consolation. 

Just  after  the  carnival,  Junot  was  ordered  to  Spain, 
and  Laura  resolved  to  accompany  him. 


I 


1N08-1810]  .17   XAPOLEOXS   COURT  319 

It  was  bitterly  cold  when  they  left  Paris  and 
travelled  straight  to  Bordeaux,  where  they  only 
stopped  for  a  few  hours  to  see  Laura's  old  friend, 
Madame  de  Caseaux. 

When  they  were  girls  together  Laura  Permon  was, 
after  her  father's  death,  left  without  fortune,  whereas 
Laura  de  Caseaux  was  an  heiress.  Hut  some  )'ears 
afterwards  the  de  Caseaux  had  lost  nearly  every- 
thing, had  left  Paris,  and  were  now  living  at 
Bordeaux.  Laura  de  Caseaux,  afterwards  Madame 
de  Castarcdi,  was  then  in  Paris,  where  she  had 
gone  to  tr\'  to  recover  some  part  of  their  fortune, 
and  Laura,  now  rich  and  influential,  had  received  her 
early  friend  with  affection,  introduced  her  to  persons 
in  power,  and  helped  her  in  every  way  she  could.  As 
her  business  could  not  be  finished  by  the  time  Junot 
and  his  wife  left,  Laura  de  Caseau.x  was  not  able  to 
travel  with  them,  and  they  had  not  even  the  chance 
of  letting  Madame  de  Caseau.x,  who  was  now  an 
invalid,  know  that  they  were  coming. 

As  Laura  knocked  at  her  door,  all  the  memories  of 
her  childhood,  of  her  mother,  of  days  gone  by,  seemed 
to  rise  to  her  heart  ;  the  e.xile  and  hardships  before 
her  increased  her  emotion,  she  entered  her  old  friend's 
room  in  silence,  and  kneeling  down  b\-  her,  buried 
her  face  on  her  breast  and  began  to  cry.  Madame 
de  Caseau.x  was  deeply  affected  ;  she  kept  Laura  to 
dine  and  stay  with  her  until  nine  o'clock,  when  Junot 
came  to  fetch  her,  as  they  had  to  start  at  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  Madame  de  Caseaux  had  not  seen 
Junot  since  his  wedding-day,  and  was  touched  by  the 
gentleness  and  kindness  with  which  he  talked  to  her 
as  he  knelt  down  and  kissed  her  hand,  while  Laura 


320  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1808-1810 

was  sitting  on  a  cushion  at  the  feet  of  her  old  friend, 
who  was  playing  with  her  hair  as  she  used  to  do  in 
days  of  old. 

With  blessings  mingled  with  lamentations  over 
the  perils  and  hardships  before  Laura,  Madame 
de  Caseaux  took  leave  of  her,  and  she  returned  to 
her  hotel. 

She  could  not  sleep,  the  wind  was  bitter  and  violent, 
she  felt  suffocated  when  the  window  was  shut  and 
frozen  when  it  was  open,  and  was  thankful  when  at 
two  o'clock  the  travelling  carriage  came  to  the 
door. 

On  the  way  to  Bayonne  they  read  in  some  news- 
papers, given  them  by  their  bankers  at  Bordeaux,  the 
announcement  of  the  coming  marriage  of  the  Emperor 
with  the  Archduchess  Marie- Louise  of  Austria.  He 
had  had  some  idea  of  an  alliance  with  a  Russian 
Grand-duchess,  but  the  Empress  Catherine  indig- 
nantly declared  that  she  would  rather  throw  her 
into    the  ■  Neva   than    give    her  to  Napoleon. 

They  reached  Bayonne  in  twenty  hours,  and  there 
began  the  real  hardships  of  the  new  life  Laura  had 
chosen.  It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  when 
they  arrived  there,  and,  exhausted  with  fatigue,  she 
t'nrew  herself  upon  her  bed  and  fell  asleep  in  her 
riding-habit,  for  she  had  ridden  the  last  part  of 
the    way. 

Presently  she  was  awakened  b)'  Junot  standing  by 
her,  embracing  her,  and  saying,  "  Adieu." 

"  Comment  ?  adieu  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  I  have  found  orders  here  that  1  must  be  at 
Burgos  by  the  i  5th,  so  I  have  no  time  to  lose,  I  must 
go.     You  will  rejoin  me  by  the  next  convoy,  for  which 


i8o8-i8io]  AT  XAPOf.EOX'S   COCRT  321 

I  shall  leave  an  escort  of  500  men  of  the  Neufchatel 
battalion  ;  they  are  trusty  men,  don't  be  afraid." 

"  I  don't  want  them.  I  did  not  come  to  Spain  to 
travel  comfortably  with  a  convoy.  I  will  go  with 
you." 

Junot  looked  at  her  with  surprise  and  emotion. 

"  You  will  go  with  me  now — without  resting 
yourself?  " 

"  At  once." 

"Then  I  will  start  later  ;  lie  down  again  and  sleep 
for  a  few  hours." 

"  Not  a  moment." 

"  But  you  are  suffering,  Laura." 

"  No." 

"  Your  hands  are  burning.  I  cannot  let  you  set  off 
now.  The  advanced  guard  and  the  first  division  went 
yesterday  ;  I  can  wait  a  few  hours  without  failing 
in  my  duty  ;  we  will  start  at  noon," 

"  I  assure  you  that  you  distress  me  by  all  this  ;  let 
us  go  now.  Tell  M.  Prevot  to  have  my  horse  saddled, 
and  understand  that  I  nez'er  wish  to  cause  you  the 
least  delay  ;  that  is  settled." 

Sometimes  riding,  sometimes  driving  in  a  caleche 
drawn  by  mules,  sometimes  walking,  they  journeyed 
along,  the  continual  passing  of  the  French  troops 
having  made  the  road  tolerably  safe. 

One  evening,  about  four  days  after  they  had 
entered  Spain,  Laura  and  Junot,  tired  with  much 
walking,  got  into  their  calcchc,  where  he  fell  asleep 
and  she  sat  gazing  out  into  the  twilight  as  they 
wound  up  a  mountain  road,  on  each  side  of  which 
were  strewn  fallen  rocks  half-covered  with  moss,  and 
amongst  them  stunted  oaks  of  weird,  distorted  shapes 


322  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1808-1810 

grew  singly  or  in  clumps  and  copses.  Suddenly, 
struck  by  the  singular  form  of  one  that  hung  over  the 
road,  she  leaned  out  to  look  at  it  and  her  forehead 
came  in  contact  with  the  foot  of  a  corpse,  which  hung 
naked  and  bleeding  from  its  branches — there  were 
four  of  them.  Her  cry  of  horror  awoke  Junot,  who 
ordered  the  postilion  to  hurry  forward,  and  assured 
Laura  that  the  sight  she  had  seen  was  inevitable 
in  war. 

"  Child,"  he  said,  when  she  reproached  him  with 
his  indifference,  "  if  you  cannot  bear  such  sights,  you 
should  not  go  to  the  war." 


CHAPTER    XX 


ibii 


NEY  and  the  two  Suchets  were  then  in  Spain  ; 
the  elder  Suchet  had  been  made  marshal,  and 
had  received  other  tokens  of  the  approbation  of  the 
Emperor,  who  was  especially  delighted  at  the  taking 
of  Taragona  and  other  strong  places,  and  most  anxious 
for  the  submission  of  Spain  to  the  rule  of  his  brother 
Joseph,  whom,  much  against  his  will,  he  had  pro- 
claimed king  of  that  country. 

Some  of  the  officers  gave  a  ball  in  honour  of  Laura, 
who,  however,  did  not  enjoy  it,  as  the  rooms  were 
miserably  small,  the  atmosphere  suffocating,  and  the 
whole  thing  a  failure. 

The  next  day  there  was  a  Te  Deum  sung  in  the 
magnificent  cathedral  of  Burgos,  to  which  Laura  went 
dressed  in  the  Spanish  costume  which  she  often  wore. 
Her  knowledge  of  the  language  was  the  greatest 
advantage  to  her,  and  she  exerted  herself  to  mitigate 
in  every  way  she  could  the  horrors  that  went  on 
around  her  ;  amongst  others,  she  saved  the  lives  of 
three  young  Spaniards  whom  the  French  were  about 
to  shoot  for  defending  their  old  father  when  he  was 
attacked  by  eleven  French  soldiers.    It  was  a  horrible 

3^3 


324  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [uSii 

war.  The  progress  of  the  French  armies  was  marked 
by  plunder,  destruction,  and  bloodshed,  while  the 
Spaniards,  justly  infuriated  against  the  ruthless  in- 
vaders of  their  country,  retaliated  with  their  proverbial 
cruelty,  by  deeds  of  savage  ferocity. 

The  sombre  picturesqueness  of  Burgos  preyed  upon 
Laura's  spirits,  and  she  was  delighted  when  they  were 
ordered  to  Valladolid,  where  they  were  lodged  in 
the  palace  of  Charles  V.,  in  the  great  square  of  the 
city.  Shortly  after  their  arrival,  Junot  received  orders 
from  Paris  to  go  and  take  the  town  of  Astorga,  which 
filled  him  with  delight.  Just  as  he  was  starting  an 
order  came  from  Madrid  that  he  should  replace 
Marshal  Ney  at  Salamanca  ;  at  which  he  threw  him- 
self into  a  violent  passion,  jumping  up,  and  sitting 
down  again,  crumpling  up  the  letter,  dashing  it  upon 
the  floor,  and  swearing  vigorously  all  the  time. 

"  What  do  you  throw  yourself  into  this  state  for?" 
asked  Laura,  taking  hold  of  his  hand.  "  You  can't 
follow  these  contradictory  orders.  Write  to  Marshal 
Ney,  you  will  see  what  he  will  say." 

Junot,  immediately  pacified, seized  her  hands,  kissed 
them  again  and  again,  received  his  answer  in  two 
days,  and  left  Valladolid  for  Astorga  on  the  14th  of 
April.  He  arrived  there  on  the  i/th,  and  narrowly 
escaped  a  shot  aimed  at  him  by  some  hidden  foe  as 
he  approached  the  town.  It  capitulated  on  the  23rd, 
and  Laura  received  a  letter  from  him  written  on  the 
24th,  telling  her  that  during  the  siege  he  had  another 
narrow  escape,  a  ball  having  just  missed  his  left 
e)'e.  The  attempted  assassination  reminded  Laura  of 
a  similar  attempt  made  in  Portugal,  when  a  man  after 
persistenti)'    tr)'ing    to    force    himself    into    Junot's 


i8ii]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  325 

presence,  was  arrested  aiul  found  to  be  armed  with  a 
dagger  and  knife,  with  which  lie  confessed  his  inten- 
tion of  murdering  him. 

Junot  gave  him  twenty  piastres,  dismissing  him,  in 
spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  his  officers,  with  the 
remark,  "Get  away,  and  don't  let  your  blood  be  on 
my  head.  Tell  your  companions  I  will  give  a 
hundred  piastres  to  the  one  who  will   replace  )'ou." 

On  the  day  the  prisoners  from  Astorga  were  to 
arrive  M.  Magnien  invited  Laura  to  drive  with  him 
to  see  them  enter  Valladolid.  The  day  was  lovely, 
and  at  first  she  enjoyed  herself,  but  presentl}'  she  was 
startled  b\'  the  sound  of  firing  not  far  off,  and  in- 
quired what  it  meant. 

M.  Magnien  turned  to  the  cAtf  de  bataillon  in 
command  of  the  convoy,  who  replied  carelessl}-^ — 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing.  Some  of  those  rascals  pretend 
they  can't  walk,  but  I  have  given  orders  to  settle 
that.  Parbleu  !  yes,  lame  indeed  !  If  we  listened  to 
them  they  would  all  be  lame,  and  find  their  legs  again 
to  rejoin  Don  Julian  when  we  had  passed  on." 

Laura  thought  at  first  she  could  not  have  under- 
stood rightl}',  but  the  chef  de  bataillon  clearly  ex- 
plained that  they  were  shooting  all  the  prisoners  who 
could  not  walk,  lest  they  should  join  the  guerilla 
chief,  Don  Julian,  At  that  moment  Laura  saw  two 
men  fall. 

"  Let  us  go  back  !  let  us  go  back  !  "  she  cried. 
"  Mon  Dieii  !  quelle  horreiir  !  " 

"  Do  you  think  our  prisoners  are  better  treated  on 
the  pontoons  of  Cadix,  Madame?  "  asked  the  French 
officer  scornfully. 

"  My  brother  died  there,  poor  fellow." 


3^6  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

It  was  not  safe  to  go  outside  the  walls  of  Valladolid 
on  account  of  the  guerilla  troops  that  were  all  over 
the  country.  Laura  narrowly  escaped  being  taken 
by  a  band  of  them,  who  approached  in  the  disguise 
of  peasants,  while  she  was  walking  one  day  in  a 
garden  close  to  the  gates — a  favourite  resort  of  hers, 
as  it  had  both  shade  and  water. 

In  the  life  of  perils  and  privations  to  which  she 
had  condemned  herself,  and  which  she  bore  with  the 
utmost  courage  and  cheerfulness,  Laura's  greatest 
pleasures  were  the  frequent  letters  she  received  from 
France,  with  the  news  of  her  children  whom  she  had 
left  under  the  care  of  a  sister  of  Junot,  and  also  of  all 
that  passed  in  the  political  and  social  world.  The 
election  of  Bernadotte  to  be  King  of  Sweden  under 
the  name  of  Charles  XIII.,  the  marriage  of  the 
Emperor  Napoleon  with  the  Archduchess  Marie- 
Louise,  with  all  the  festivities  and  gossip  attending 
those  events,  were  of  course  intensely  interesting 
to  her. 

Few  cared  much  about  the  cold,  ungifted,  un- 
interesting girl  who  had  taken  Josephine's  place  ; 
except  Buonaparte  himself  Delighted  at  the  success 
of  his  plans  and  immensely  flattered  by  the  alliance, 
he  fell  violently  in  love  with  her  after  his  Oriental 
fashion,  would  allow  her  to  receive  no  man  but 
himself  and  her  old  music-master,  objecting  even  to 
the  man  who  came  to  wind  up  the  clock,  but  in  all 
other  respects  showing  her  boundless  indulgence. 

One  of  the  few  sympathetic  anecdotes  about  that 
unsympathetic  personage  is  this  : — 

Berthier,  who  had  been  made  Prince  de  Neufchatel, 
was  sent  to  Vienna  to  fetch  her.    After  the  ceremony 


i8n]  AT  XAI'OLEOS'S   COrRT  327 

of  marriage  by  proxy,  in  which  her  uncle,  the  Arch- 
duke Charles,  stood  for  Napoleon,  the  day  for  her 
departure  arrived.  Berthicr  went  to  her  apartments, 
according  to  the  usual  etiquette,  to  accompany  her 
to  the  carriage.  When  he  entered  the  room  where 
she  was  waiting  for  him  he  found  her  crying  bitterly, 
and  looking  round,  she  explained,  amidst  tears  and 
sobs,  that  it  was  not  only  that  she  had  to  part  from 
her  own  family,  but  even  to  leave  behind  her  the 
pets  and  favourite  possessions  of  her  girlhood — the 
drawings  done  by  her  sisters  and  uncle,  the  tapestr)- 
worked  by  her  mother,  the  carpet  given  her  by  some- 
body else,  her  birds,  her  parrot,  and  worst  of  all  her 
little  dog,  who,  shut  up  in  another  room,  was  barking 
loudl)-.  Her  father  would  not  allow  her  to  take 
them,  as  Buonaparte  disliked  Josephine's  pet  dogs. 
Such  a  beginning  of  her  married  life  certainly  did 
not  seem  encouraging,  and  Berthier,  telling  the  young 
Empress  that  the  journey  was  put  off  for  two  hours, 
retired,  and  after  an  interview  with  her  father,  the 
Emperor  Francis  II.,  returned  to  escort  her  on  her 
way.  Her  progress  through  France  was  a  succession 
of  festivities  and  rejoicings.  The  Emperor  met  her 
at  Compiegne,  the  first  days  of  her  married  life  were 
passed  at  St.  Cloud  and  then  at  Paris,  where,  Napoleon 
taking  her  by  the  hand,  led  her  on  to  a  balcony  of 
the  Tuileries  and  presented  her  to  the  people,  while 
a  thousand  voices  shouted,  "  Vive  f  Enipereur  I  Vive 
rimp&atrice ! "  When  they  re-entered  the  room. 
Napoleon,  telling  her  that  he  must  pay  her  for  the 
happiness  she  had  given  him,  led  her  through  a  long, 
dark  passage  to  a  door,  on  the  other  side  of  which 
a   dog   was    heard    scratching.     On   opening  it,   the 


328  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

Empress  beheld  her  faithful  dog,  her  parrot  and  other 
birds,  and  perceived  that  the  room  was  furnished 
with  all  the  familiar  possessions  she  had  left  in 
Vienna — pictures,  tapestr}',  armchairs,  and  everything 
else.  She  threw  herself  into  the  Emperor's  arms  to 
thank  him  and  the  crowd,  seeing  this  through  the 
window,  redoubled  their  cheers. 

One  day,  after  the  courier  from  Paris  had  come  in, 
Laura,  noticing  that  Junot  looked  disturbed,  asked 
what  was  the  matter. 

"  We  have  a  General  Commander-in-chief  of  the 
army  of  Portugal,"  he  replied,  with  a  constrained 
smile.  "  The  Emperor  does  not  think  Ney  or  I  are 
capable  of  leading  our  troops " 

"  I  hope  it  is  not  Davoust  or  Bessieres  !  "  said  Laura. 

"  No,"  replied  Junot,  "  I  can't  complain  of  the 
choice  that  has  been  made.  It  is  Massena.  He  is 
our  senior.  I  only  hope  to  God  that  Ney  will  get  on 
with  him  as  well  as  I  shall." 

Much  as  Junot  disliked  being  under  the  orders  of 
another  in  the  country  where  he  had  been  almost 
like  a  king,  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  obey 
the  commands  of  the  Emperor,  and  he  went  to  receive 
Massena,  now  Prince  d'Essling,  with  due  respect. 

"  Monsieur  le  Marechal,"  he  said,  "  my  wife  will  be 
charmed  to  do  the  honours  of  the  palace  of  Charles  V., 
where  we  hope  you  will  be  comfortable." 

"What!  Madame  Junot  is  at  Valladolid  !  "  ex- 
claimed Massena  in  evident  perturbation. 

"  Certainly." 

"  But  in  that  case,"  said  Massena,  after  an  instant's 
reflection,  "  it  will  be  iuipossihle  for  me  to  live  in  the 
palace — ccla  ?ic  se  pent  pasT 


i8ii]  AT  NAPOLEOX'S   COURT  329 

"  If  you  are  afraid  of  not  ha\ing  room  enough," 
replied  Junot  in  a  tone  of  pique,  "it  is  for  my  wife 
and  me  to  give  place  to  )'ou.  Are  you  not  our 
chief?  " 

"  A/on  Dieu  !  it  is  not  that !  "  cried  Masscna,  "  it  is 
not  that  at  all — it  is  because " 

There  was,  in  fact,  in  the  calcche  of  Masscna  a 
young  woman  by  whom,  in  spite  of  his  age,  he  was 
accompanied,  much  to  the  derision  of  the  other 
officers,  one  of  whom,  General  Heble,  offered  mingled 
complaints  and  apologies  to  Laura. 

"  Mais  que  voulez-voiis  ?  have  not  we  all  tried  our 
utmost  to  prevent  him,  at  his  age,  causing  such  a 
scandal?  Nothing  will  persuade  him  !  Oh!  I  could 
tell  you  the  most  extraordinary  things  about  him  !  " 

Massena  was,  after  Soult,  one  of  the  greatest  of 
Napoleon's  generals,  but  his  courage  and  military 
talents  were  counterbalanced  by  the  rapacity  he 
sought  to  conceal  under  an  apparent  simplicity  of 
manner,  and  the  open  immorality  which  even  amongst 
his  comrades  was  considered  scandalous  and 
ridiculous,  especially  as  one  of  the  young  officers 
who  witnessed  it  was  his  own  son. 

Matters  were  arranged  somehow,  and  Massena  took 
up  his  abode  in  the  palace,  where  he  lived  on  very 
friendly  terms  with  Junot  and  Laura.  Often  in  the 
morning  he  would  come  in  and  sit  with  them,  pouring 
out  his  complaints  of  the  various  persons  who  dis- 
pleased him,  but  especially  of  Ney,  whose  vain, 
boastful  nature  rendered  him  furious  at  being  placed 
under  the  orders  of  any  one. 

One  day  Masscna  brought  a  letter  he  had  just 
received   from  the   Emperor,  wTitten    with    his    own 


330  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

hand  in  those  flattering  terms  which  Napoleon  knew 
so  well  how  to  use,  and  which  were  almost  irresistible 
to  his  followers. 

"  But  how  do  you  suppose,"  grumbled  Massena, 
"  that  I  can  do  any  good  work  with  a  man  like  that 
Michel  Nay,  who  treats  me  as  if  I  were  in  my  dotage 
and  does  not  even  listen  when  I  speak  to  him  ?  I 
tell  you,  Junot,  that  I  have  been  on  the  point  of 
giving  him  a  blow  in  the  face,  and  then,  of  course, 
offering  him  reparation  with  my  sword — for  the 
sword  of  the  old  soldier  of  Genoa  is  still  sharp."  ^ 

In  fact,  much  of  the  disaster  which  overtook  the 
French  army  in  the  Peninsula  may  be  attributed  to 
the  miserable  jealousies  and  quarrels  between  the 
generals. 

"  You  will  see,"  exclaimed  Massena  to  Junot 
another  time,  "  that  that  boaster  will  make  all  our 
operations  fail  by  his  obstinacy  and  idiotic  vanity." 

Massena  was  very  fond  of  Laura,  and  would  often 
come  to  her  rooms  to  sit  and  talk  with  her  while  she 
worked  at  the  layette  she  was  obliged  to  prepare,  for 
she  was  again  enceinte. 

The  old  general  took  the  greatest  interest  in  the 
letters  she  received  about  her  children,  especially 
those  written  by  Josephine,  her  eldest  daughter, 
whom  he  proposed  to  betroth  to  his  eldest  son. 
Junot  and  Laura  consented  to  this  plan,  but  the 
marriage  nev^er  took  place,  owing  to  the  death  of  the 
ficxncc. 

A  violent  quarrel  soon  took  place  between  Mas- 
sena and  Ney,  who  wrote  the  former  a  letter  of 
defiance     from     Salamanca,    saying,    among    other 

'  Massena  was  Italian,  being  a  native  of  Nice. 


i8iij 


.-J  7-  XAPOLEOS'S   COURT 


things  :  "  I  am  a  Duke  and  Marshal  of  the  Empire 
as  well  as  }ou.  Vou  say  you  are  Commander  of 
the  army  of  Portugal — I   know  it  too  well.     There- 


SOILT. 

(Rouillard.1 


fore  when  you  order  Michel  Xey  to  lead  his  troops 
against  the  enem\-,  you  will  see  how  he  will  obey 
you.     But  when    it   pleases  you  to  upset   the   ctat- 


332  A    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

major  of  the  army  ...  I  shall  no  more  attend  to 
your  orders  than  I  fear  your  threats." 

"  You  see  it  is  impossible  to  do  anything  with  that 
fellow  !  "  cried  Massena  as  he  walked  up  and  down 
Laura's  salon  in  a  towering  rage.  The  engineer 
officer  whom  he  had  twice  sent  to  Ney  with  orders 
that  he  should  conduct  the  siege  of  Ciudad-Rodrigo 
had  twice  been  sent  back  by  that  general,  and  now 
declined  to  go  again.  "  Am  I  Commander-in-chief 
en  peinture  ? "  he  cried.  "  I  say  that  this  young 
man  shall  direct  the  siege,  and,  b\'  the  great  devil  in 
hell,  Monsieur  Ney  shall  bend  his  knee  to  my  will,  or 
my  name  is  not  Massena."  And  he  prepared  to  go 
himself  to  Ciudad-Rodrigo  to  enforce  his  orders, 
taking  the  officer  in  question  with  him. 

Junot  and  his  wife  also  went  to  Salamanca,  where 
he  too  became  involved  in  a  dispute  with  Massena, 
which,  however,  Laura  succeeded  in  calming  before 
both  of  them  set  out  with  the  troops  for  Ciudad- 
Rodrigo,  which  the  English  under  Wellington  were 
coming  up  to  succour. 

Laura  was  left  at  Salamanca  in  no  very  pleasant 
position.  The  French  were,  of  course,  loathed  by 
the  inhabitants,  who,  after  the  departure  of  Massena 
and  his  troops,  thronged  the  churches  to  pray  for 
their  defeat  and  the  victory  of  the  English.  Some- 
times a  peal  of  bells  was  heard,  and  on  Laura's 
asking  her  landlady  the  reason,  the  Spaniard 
answered,  with  a  flash  of  hatred  in  her  eyes — 

"  For  Ciudad-Rodrigo, sehora,  for  Ciudad-Rodrigo! 
and  for  the  English  !  " 

After  Junot  had  left,  Laura  wished  to  move  from 
her   lodgings    near   the   gate  of  the  city  to   a  very 


i8u]  AT  S'APOLEOXS  COURT  333 

pretty  little  house  belonging  to  the  Marquis  de  la 
Scala.  On  her  asking  whether  he  would  let  it  to  her, 
he  replied  that  he  should  have  pleasure  in  doing  so 
if  she  would  give  him  time  to  put  some  furniture 
into  it,  as  nearly  the  whole  of  his  had  been  stolen  by 
a  French  general.  Laura  found  on  inquiring  that 
the  general  in  question  had  carried  off  a  great  deal  of 
it  to  the  siege  of  Ciudad-Rodrigo,  including  mat- 
tresses and  all  the  kitchen  apparatus,  and  had  sent 
the  rest  in  K\s  foin-gons  to  France  !  One  day  Laura 
was  playing  with  the  daughter  of  her  landlady,  a 
child  of  three  years  old,  of  whom  she  was  very  fond, 
when  a  chain  round  the  baby's  neck  caught  on  some- 
thing and  jerked  out  a  knife  that  was  attached 
to  it. 

"  Don't  take  it !  "  cried  the  child  ;  "  it  is  to  kill  a 
Frenchman  with  !  " 

About  eleven  o'clock  one  evening,  as  she  was 
sitting  with  five  or  si.x  other  people,  suddenly  in  a 
pause  of  the  conversation  Laura  heard  a  feeble  cry. 
She  sent  her  valet-de-cJianibre  to  know  what  it  was 
and  he  returned  saying  he  could  see  nothing. 
Presently  the  cries  recommenced,  and  Laura,  calling 
for  a  light  to  be  brought,  and  accompanied  by  the 
officers  who  were  present,  went  into  the  court^-ard 
and,  guided  by  the  cries,  found  on  the  cushions  of 
her  caleche  a  baby  of  about  a  week  old,  carefully 
dressed,  with  a  note  containing  the  following  words  : 

"  A  mother  in  despair  confides  to  your  Excellency 
what  is  most  precious  to  her — her  child — her 
daughter,  who  ought  to  be  the  support  and  consola- 
tion of  her  old  age.  It  is  known  in  Salamanca  that 
your  Excellency  loves  to  do  good  and  that  you  are 


334  '4    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1811 

about  to  become  a  mother.  I  dare  to  hope  that  you 
will  adopt  my  poor  child,  and  not  abandon  her.  May 
her  father  feel  the  shame  of  the  step  he  forces  me  to 
take." 

This  was  in  Spanish  and  well  written,  probably  by 
some  Spanish  girl  seduced  and  deserted  by  a  French- 
man. Laura  and  her  maid  passed  most  of  the  night 
in  feeding  and  looking  after  the  child,  and  in  the 
morning  she  sent  for  a  French  cuiigrc  priest,  who 
was  now  almost  a  naturalised  Spaniard,  to  baptize  it, 
giving  it  the  names  of  Laura  Juana  Marie.  She 
bought  it  everything  necessary,  and  gave  a  sum  of 
money  to  the  corregidor  to  be  paid  for  its  main- 
tenance until  it  was  three  years  old,  when  it  was  to 
be  sent  to  her  in  France. 

"  You  see,"  she  observed,  "  that  we  French  are  not 
so  bad.  I  am  saving  the  life  of  your  countrywoman's 
child,  which  she  deserted." 

The  corregidor  looked  at  her  with  a  glance  of 
hostility, 

"  You  may  well  save  the  life  of  one  Spaniard  when 
your  husband  kills  so  many,"  was  his  answer. 

A  few  days  afterwards  she  received  the  following 
letter  from  her  husband  : — 

"  I  have  received  your  letter,  dear  Laura,  and  you 
may  be  sure  that  I  recognised  mon  ainie  in  her  good 
deed  to  the  poor  little  orphan.  ...  I  send  you  letters 
from  France.  I  think  there  are  some  with  news  of 
our  children  ;  write  to  me  what  they  arc  doing. 
Here  we  have  great  heat,  a  great  deal  of  firing,  and 
very  little  to  eat.  Vegetables,  above  all,  are 
scarce,  which  is  very  disagreeable.     I  can  swallow  as 


i8ii]  AT  XAF'OLEOX'S  COURT  335 

much  dust  as  I  like,  and  two  sunstrokes  have  scorched 
my  ears  and  face.  I  hope  I  shall  be  a  little  less  ugly 
when  I  see  you  again,  but  colour  does  not  matter. 
They  say  Notre  Dame  de  Laurette  was  as  black  as 
the  devil,  but  she  inspired  many  passions.  My 
Laura  is  dark,  but  she  is  as  pretty  as  the  prettiest 
blondes. 

"The  walls  of  Ciudad-Rodrigo  are  falling  bien 
doucevtcnt.  We  have  enemies  who  disquiet  us  bien 
douccment.  When  we  attack  we  do  it  bien  doucement. 
Our  soldiers,  par  exemple,  do  not  sleep  bien  douce- 
ment ;  as  to  the  provisions,  they  arrive  bien 
doncevient.  I  wish  the  ordonnateur  (M.  Michaudj 
did  not  arrive  so  doucement.  When  we  dispute  it  is 
not  always  bien  doucement.  It  would  be  all  the 
same  to  me,  my  Laura,  if  I  could  be  bien  doucement 
with  you,  and  after  the  fatigues  of  the  day  could 
rest  bien  doucement  by  your  side.  Adieu,  my  Laura; 
I  embrace  you  a  thousand  times,  and  am  going  to 
the  advanced  posts  to  see  the  faces  of  the  English 
nearer. 

"  Ton  ami^'  &c." 

Ciudad-Rodrigo  fell  shortly  afterwards,  and  Junot 
sent  a  hurried  letter  to  Laura  to  be  ready,  as  he 
would  call  for  her  at  Salamanca  ;  they  were  going  on 
to  Ledesma,  which  she  heard  with  regret,  as  she 
found  much  to  interest  her  at  Salamanca  besides 
being  tolerably  comfortable  there,  whereas  Ledesma 
was  an  Arabic  town  perched  on  a  sugarloaf-shaped 
rock  surrounded  by  a  burning,  arid  plain. 

Before  they  left  Salamanca,  Laura  had  a  narrow 
'  The  letter  is,  of  course,  in  the  second  person  singular. 


33^1  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1811 

escape  from  being  taken  by  the  guerilla  chief,  Don 
Julian,  who  gave  more  trouble  to  the  French  than 
any  one  in  the  Spanish  army.  He  had  set  his  heart 
on  taking  Laura  prisoner  ;  and,  having  been  warned 
of  this,  she  discontinued  her  drives  into  the  country, 
only  going  into  an  avenue  just  outside  the  gate  of 
Zamora  which  led  up  a  little  hill  so  near  the  walls  of 
the  town  that  it  was  considered  perfectly  safe.  One 
hot  July  evening  Laura,  whose  health  was,  of 
course,  now  delicate,  feeling  unusually  tired,  went 
home  early,  while  M.  Magnien,  who  had  been  driving 
with  her,  walked  on  slowly  to  the  top  of  the  hill  in 
question,  from  which  he  saw  a  man  of  suspicious 
appearance,  with  a  red  feather  in  his  hat,  mounted 
upon  a  mule,  appear  on  the  summit  of  a  hill  opposite. 
Presently  another  appeared,  then  a  third,  and  when 
they  numbered  five  M.  Magnien  turned  and  ran 
towards  the  town,  pursued  by  the  guerillas  up  to  the 
gate,  where,  breathless  and  exhausted,  he  threw  him- 
self into  the  arms  of  the  official  who  came  out  at 
that  moment.  Don  Julian  had  been  told  the  hour  of 
Laura's  drive,  and  made  preparations  accordingly, 
which  were  only  frustrated  by  her  going  home 
early. 

After  being  two  months  at  Ledesma,  Laura 
accompanied  her  husband  to  San- Felices-el-Grande, 
a  much  worse  place  of  abode.  At  Ledesma  she  had 
lodged  in  the  best  house  the  place  afforded,  which 
she  declared  not  to  be  nearly  so  good  as  a  gardener's 
cottage  in  b>ance  ;  but  it  was  a  palace  compared  to 
her  lodging  at  San-Felices-el-Grande. 

The  place  was  a  miserable,  ruined  village  among 
barren   mountains    many  leagues   from   a   town  ;  the 


i8ii]  AT  MAPOLEOS'S   COURT  337 

house  she  occupied  was  a  damp,  dark  hole,  in  which 
she  lay  upon  a  bed  of  sickness  in  a  room  lighted  only 
by  a  small  window  high  up  in  the  wall,  and  with  a 
floor  of  beaten  earth,  on  which  was  arranged  the 
portable  furniture  she  had  in  the  fourgon,  which 
alone  made   it  habitable. 

They  had  at  first  hoped  that  she  would  be  able 
to  get  to  Madrid  if  she  could  not  return  to  l^Vance  for 
her  confinement.  But  the  escort  which  would  have 
been  sufficient  for  her  safety  could  not  now  be  spared 
from  Junot's  corps  (fari)u'e,  so  that  her  only  hope  was 
that  she  might  reach  Lisbon,  or  even  Coimbra,  in 
time.  The  soldiers  were  dying  of  dysentery  and 
nostalgia  in  alarming  numbers.  Junot  and  Xey, 
with  whom  he  had  an  interview,  both  took  a  gloomy 
view  of  the  present  and  future  prospects  of  the  war, 
and  Laura  grew  worse  and  worse.  Often  when  she 
awoke  in  the  night  from  a  feverish,  troubled  sleep 
she  saw  her  husband  standing  by  her  bed  crying  or 
looking  at  her  with  mournful  eyes. 

"  And  I  cannot  get  you  out  of  this  desert !  "  he 
would  exclaim,  kissing  her  hands  and  shedding  tears 
of  despair.  "  There  is  no  possibility — none  !  I 
would  rather  send  in  my  resignation  and  go  with 
you  myself  than  trust  you  to  a  miserable  escort 
which  would  be  defeated  by  the  first  band  of 
guerillas  posted  in  the  woods  of  Matilla  to  lie  in 
wait  for  you.  But  I  cannot  !  A  cannot  without  dis- 
honour !  for  the  guns  will  be  at  work  again  directly, 
and  I  cannot  turn  my  back  on  the  enemy." 

The  French  were  now  besieging  Almeida,  which 
was  the  first  fortress  over  the  Portuguese  border  as 
Ciudad-Rodrigo  was  the  last   on  the  Spanish   side. 

23 


338  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

Wellington  was  drawing  on  the  army  of  Massena 
into  a  country  deserted  and  devastated  by  its 
inhabitants. 

One  evening  after  sunset  there  was  a  loud 
explosion,  and  the  house  shook  violentl}-.  "  What  is 
it  ?  "  cried  Laura  in  terror.  "  Is  it  an  earthquake  ? 
Another  danger  in  this  dreadful  country." 

There  was  another  detonation,  and  again  the 
house  rocked. 

"  It  is  the  fortress !  "  was  the  general  cry  ;  and 
Junot  with  the  rest  rushed  out  to  a  ruined  tower  at 
the  end  of  the  village,  on  a  rising  ground.  Presently 
he  returned. 

"  Almeida  is  on  fire !  "  he  said  ;  "  it  is  a  splendid 
sight !    You  must  see  it,  Laura  ;  they  shall  carry  you." 

Laura  was  accordingly  carried  up  into  the  tower, 
from  whence  she  looked  out  towards  the  beleaguered 
town. 

The  autumn  wind  howled  among  the  mountains,  the 
sky  overhead  was  dark,  but  the  horizon  was  a  lurid 
mass  of  fire  and  from  time  to  time  sheets  of  flame  shot 
up  and  despairing  cries  seemed  to  be  borne  upon  the 
gale. 

Almeida  had  been  blown  up — it  appeared  accident- 
ally. A  gunner  leaving  his  post  having  fired  his  last 
shot  at  random  towards  the  town,  it  fell  into  the  open 
door  of  the  arsenal  of  the  chateau  before  which  a 
hundred  workmen  were  making  cartridges.  Besides 
this  forty  families  were  blown  into  the  air,  as  the 
townspeople  had  crowded  there  for  refuge.  With  the 
explosion  the  walls  seemed  to  open,  and  the  French 
troops  poured  in  through  the  breaches. 

Guns  and  mutilated  bodies  were  flung  out  to   an 


i8ii]  AT  X A PO LEON'S  COURT  339 

incredible  distance,  and  when,  the  next  day,  Junot 
returned  from  visiting  the  scene  of  the  catastrophe  he 
was  pale  with  horror  at  the  frightful  spectacle  he  had 
witnessed. 

Meantime  Laura's  position,  already  terrible  enough, 
became  still  more  alarming  as  the  day  drew  near  on 
which    her   husband  would  be  obliged  to  leave  her. 

Junot  was  nearly  out  of  his  mind  at  the  idea  of 
leaving  his  wife  on  the  eve  of  her  confinement  alone, 
with  an  insufficient  guard,  and  without  the  necessaries 
of  life,  in  a  hostile  country.  Massena  also  declared  it 
was  out  of  the  question.  "Let  us  take  the  Duchess 
with  us,"  he  said. 

"It's  impossible,"  replied  Junot.  "She  will  be 
confined  in  six  weeks,  and  she  is  almost  dying  now." 

"  Well,  then  we  must  send  her  to  Salamanca  ;  that  is 
the  nearest  and  best  place." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Junot  gloomily,  "  I  won't  leave  m\- 
wife  at  Salamanca  ;  the  town  is  not  safe  from  a  sur- 
prise. If  she  went  there,  Don  Julian  would  be  there 
too  in  three  days." 

"  The  devil !  you  are  right,  my  poor  Junot.  But 
what  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  It  is  horrible,"  said  Junot  at  last,  "  but  there  is 
only  one  place  where  I  can  leave  my  wife  without 
dying  of  anxiet}',  and  that  is  Ciudad-Rodrigo." 

"  Ciudad-Rodrigo  ! " 

"  Yes  !  Ciudad-Rodrigo.  Behind  its  ramparts  at 
least  she  would  be  safe  from  Don  Julian,  and  I  should 
find  her  again  and  m}'  child." 

"  But  think,  there  is  not  a  house  in  Ciudad-Rodrigo 
with  a  whole  roof;  the  town  is  full  of  holes  and  ruins, 
and  almost  without  inhabitants." 


340  A    LEADER    OF   SOCIETY  [1811 

"  Solitude  is  better  than  the  society  of  the  guerillas. 
The  Duchess  shall  go  to  Ciudad-Rodrigo,  only  I 
will  ask  of  you  as  a  favour  to  let  her  have  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men  of  the  battalion  of  Neufchatel  for  her 
guard,  and  when  she  can  join  us  they  will  be  her 
escort." 

Massena  agreed,  and  two  days  afterwards  the  8th 
Army  Corps,  with  Junot  in  command,  began  its  march 
into  Portugal,  and  Laura, after  a  heart-breaking  parting 
with  her  husband,  set  out  with  her  escort  for  Ciudad- 
Rodrigo.  One  great  consolation  she  had — the  Baron 
Thomieres,  who  had  been  aide-de-camp  to  Lannes 
and  was  now  a  general  of  brigade,  had  brought  his 
wife  with  him  to  Spain.  They  were  quartered  three 
leagues  off,  but  General  Thomieres  found  it  difficult 
to  take  his  wife  with  him,  and  Laura  hearing  of  her, 
implored  Junot  to  persuade  Madame  Thomieres  to 
stay  with  her,  which  he  succeeded  in  doing,  and  Laura 
found  in  her  a  gentle,  sympathetic  friend,  to  whom  she 
soon  became  deeply  attached. 

General  Cacault  was  in  command  at  Ciudad- 
Rodrigo,  but  his  garrison  consisted  of  sick  or 
wounded  soldiers  left  behind  by  Massena,  who  as 
they  wandered  amongst  the  ruined  streets,  looked 
more  fit  to  be  in  hospital  than  to  defend  a  fortress. 

As  she  entered  this  gloomy  place,  situated  in  the 
most  dreary  and  desolate  part  of  the  Peninsula,  Laura 
felt  her  heart  sink.  The  dark,  narrow  streets,  the 
deserted, half-demolished  houses, the  sickly, melancholy 
figures  of  her  countrymen,  and  the  not  particularly 
friendly  reception  of  General  Cacault  were  not  cal- 
culated to  reassure  her. 

The  General  awaited  her  at  the  door  of  the  house 


i8ii]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  341 

which  had  been  prepared  for  her  reception  ;  that  is  to 
say,  the  roof  had  been  made  water-tight.  It  was  the 
best  in  the  town,  and  its  rather  out-of-the-way 
position  had  saved  it  from  destruction.  The  canon 
to  whom  it  belonged  had  fled  with  most  of  the  towns- 
people. 

Laura  had  a  room  arranged  on  the  first  floor — the 
ground  floor  was  so  dark  as  to  be  impossible — and 
made  the  house  as  comfortable  as  could  be  managed 
for  herself  and  Madame  Thomiere.  For  the  first 
month  they  received  no  news  whatever  of  Junot  or 
the  army,  and  their  days  passed  in  dreary  monotony 
and  intense  anxiety,  aggravated  by  the  conduct  of 
General  Cacault,  from  whom  they  received  neither 
the  courtesy  of  a  gentleman  nor  yet  the  sympathy  and 
consideration  which  would  have  been  shown  by  a 
man  with  an\-  kindness  of  heart  for  women  in  their 
terrible  position.  Regardless  of  Laura's  approaching 
confinement,  he  would  enlarge  in  her  presence  upon 
the  dangers  which  surrounded  her,  upon  the  plague 
or  malignant  fever  which  was  expected  to  break  out 
on  account  of  the  numbers  of  bodies  buried  nearly  at 
the  surface  of  the  ground  and  continually  disinterred 
b\'  the  half  wild  dogs  about,  and  of  the  perils  she  ran 
from  Don  Julian,  who  knew  of  her  presence  there  and 
was  resolved  on  her  capture.  He  complained  of  the 
additional  risk  to  himself  and  his  garrison  ;  and  when, 
with  a  contemptuous  look,  she  retorted  that  the  two 
hundred  men  she  had  brought  were  so  much  more  fit 
to  defend  the  place  than  his  wretched  garrison  as  to 
counterbalance  any  danger  she  might  bring  upon 
him,  he  altered  his  ground  and  said  that  so  man\' 
additional  rnouths  made  him  short  of  provisions. 


342  A    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

Another  great  anxiety  weighed  upon  Laura — what 
was  she  to  do  for  a  nurse  for  herself  and  the  child 
about  to  be  born  ?  She  had  recently  heard  that  the 
wife  of  a  French  officer  who  was  confined  during 
the  absence  of  the  doctor  of  the  regiment  had  been 
obliged  to  have  a  Spanish  midwife,  who  had  mur- 
dered her  and  her  infant.  In  the  midst  of  her 
dilemma  she  heard  with  delight  that  her  house- 
keeper, Madame  Heldt,  another  maid,  and  the  wet- 
nurse  who  had  nursed  her  last  child  had  arrived 
safely  at  Salamanca  and  were  coming  to  her. 

This  nurse  was  a  Burgundian,  devotedly  attached 
to  Laura.  She  had  been  to  inquire  after  her  at  her 
house  in  Paris,  and  on  hearing  that  she  was  again 
enceinte  had  written  begging  to  be  allowed  to  come 
out  to  her,  saying  that  she  would  be  confined  a  little 
before  her  and  would  be  ready  to  take  Laura's  baby, 
only  stipulating  that  her  husband  should  come  with 
her ;  to  which  Laura  joyfully  agreed,  ordering  that 
no  expense  should  be  spared  in  making  her  journey 
easy  and  comfortable. 

They  arrived  about  the  middle  of  October,  and  the 
faithful  Rose  shed  tears  when  she  saw  the  rooms  and 
the  food  to  which  Laura  was  reduced.  Rose  gave 
birth  to  a  daughter,  who  only  lived  a  few  weeks, 
about  three  weeks  before  the  confinement  of  her 
mistress. 

News  arrived  after  a  time  of  the  defeat  of  the 
French  at  Busaco,  to  which,  when  he  announced 
it.  General  Cacault  added  that  Masscna's  army  was 
reported  to  be  destroyed  ;  but  when  Laura  uttered 
a  cry  of  horror  he  assured  her  that  the  corps  (Varniee 
of  the  Due  d'Abrantes  had  not  been  engaged. 


i8ii]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  343 

At  last  Laura  was  told  that  a  ragged  Portuguese 
wanted  to  speak  to  her,  who  on  being  admitted 
gave  her  a  letter  from  Junot.  He  had  written  three 
letters  and  given  them  to  three  peasants,  promising  that 
she  would  give  1,200  rett/s  for  each  that  arrived  safely. 

Delighted  with  her  letter,  Laura  was  as  gay  and 
happy  as  a  child  for  a  da\-.  Then  it  occurred  to 
her  that  this  letter  was  a  month  old  and  that  many 
calamities  might  have  happened  since  it  was  written. 
Also  that  it  was  two  months  since  she  had  heard 
from  her  children.  Her  fears  and  sorrows  returned, 
with  sleepless  nights,  anxious  days  with  nothing  to 
do  but  write  and  work  at  the  clothes  for  the  child 
so  soon  to  be  born,  and  a  growing  presentiment  that 
it  would  not  live  or  that  she  would  not  live  or  that 
she  would  not  survive  its  birth  amid  so  many  perils 
and  privations.  For  it  was  almost  impossible  to  get 
food.  The  French  had  ravaged  and  destroyed  all 
the  gardens,  so  that  there  were  neither  fruit  nor 
vegetables,  the  meat  was  almost  uneatable,  poultry 
scarcely  ever  obtainable,  eggs  scarce  and  if  pro- 
curable costing  two  francs  each — nothing  good  but 
bread.  Expecting  to  be  at  some  civilised  place 
for  her  confinement,  Laura  had  foolishly  brought 
none  of  the  medicines  required,  and  nothing  could 
be  brought  into  the  town  because  the  country  was 
ov^errun  by  Don  Julian  and  his  bands. 

There  was  another  Frenchwoman  at  Ciudad- 
Rodrigo,  the  wife  of  an  officer,  and  the  three  did 
their  best  to  console  one  another. 

At  last  Laura  gave  birth  to  a  son  after  great 
danger  and  suffering,  during  which  Madame  Tho- 
miere  nursed  her  w  ith  untiring  devotion.     The  child 


344  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

was  born  on  the  15th  of  November,  and  on  the  24th 
General  Cacault  sent  to  say  that  he  was  so  short 
of  provisions  that  he  must  beg  the  Duchesse 
d'Abrantes  and  her  escort  to  go  on  to  Salamanca. 
Laura  would  have  preferred  to  wait  for  three  weeks 
after  her  confinement,  but  under  these  circumstances 
she  at  once  consented  to  start,  and  decided  to  ride, 
which  she  said  would  be  better  than  being  shaken 
about  on  those  horrible  roads.  She  set  forth  accord- 
ingly with  Madame  Thomiere,  her  child,  her  suite 
and  guard,  taking  with  them  also  a  few  invalids 
who  were  glad  of  the  escort. 

The  recent  passage  of  a  large  body  of  French 
troops  had  made  the  road  rather  safer,  but  still  any 
who  lagged  behind  the  convoy  were  sure  to  be  fired 
on.  Joyfully  she  left  Ciudad-Rodrigo,  but  the  way 
lay  through  the  notoriously  dangerous  forest  of 
Matilla.  As  the  convoy  drew  near  the  woods  the 
road  became  so  frightfully  bad,  owing  to  the  roots 
and  stumps  of  trees,  holes,  ruts,  and  other  impedi- 
ments, that  the  carts  and  light  carriages  were  so 
violently  shaken  as  to  cause  Laura  to  be  seriously 
frightened  about  the  safety  of  her  child,  especially  as 
it  was  getting  dark.  She  herself  was  on  horseback 
and  could  not  see  where  her  horse  trod,  so  she  beheld 
with  satisfaction  the  soldiers  strike  a  light  and  make 
torches  of  a  kind  of  dry  fern  which  grew  all  over  the 
ground  they  were  traversing. 

Not  so  General  Coin,  a  friendly  and  excellent 
man,  who  had  shown  Laura  much  kindness,  and 
who,  indignant  at  the  conduct  of  General  Cacault, 
had  volunteered  to  go  with  her  to  Salamanca,  and 
now  rode  at  the  head  of  the  convoy. 


i8ii]  AT  XAI'OLEO\"S   CO  CRT  345 

Before  he  could  prevent  it  the  whole  convoy  from 
one  end  to  another  was  lighted  up  just  as  they  were 
getting  into  the  woods  where  the  guerillas  were  likely 
to  be  concealed.  Suddenly  they  heard  the  sound  of 
horses  galloping,  there  was  a  cry  of  "  Halt ! "  and 
in  a  moment  they  were  surrounded  by  a  troop  of 
armed  men.  In  the  noise  and  tumult  Laura  believed 
they  were  lost,  when  the  bVench  tongue  and  the  voice 
of  a  friend  assured  her  of  their  safety. 

General  Thiebault,  then  commanding  at  .Sala- 
manca, had  been  told  that  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes, 
with  a  very  insufficient  escort,  was  on  her  way  to 
that  city  from  Ciudad-Rodrigo,  and  had  also 
received  information  that  Don  Julian,  at  the  head 
of  a  formidable  troop,  intended  to  attack  the 
convoy  in  the  woods  of  Matilla.  Therefore  he 
posted  columns  of  soldiers  along  the  road,  and 
himself  hurried  forward  to  meet  and  protect  her. 

The  rest  of  the  journey  was  consequently  per- 
formed in  safety,  and  on  the  following  day  they 
arrived  at  Salamanca.  General  Thiebault  had  done 
his  utmost  to  find  suitable  lodgings  for  the  Duchess 
and  Madame  Thomiere,  and  Laura,  after  the  horrors 
of  the  last  few  months,  was  thankful  to  find  herself 
back  in  Salamanca  and  delighted  with  the  apart- 
ments provided  for  herself  and  her  suite  in  the 
house  formerly  occupied  by  Marshal  Xey,  where 
her  sa/on  soon  became  the  resort  of  what  French 
society  was  to  be  found  in  the  place.  They  met 
in  the  evenings  and  amused  themselves  with  chess, 
music,  and  conversation. 

Laura  received  letters  from  her  children  and  from 
Junot,    for   whom   she  waited    contentedly  in    Sala- 


346  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [i8ri 

matica,  although  warned  that  the  town  was  not 
entirely  safe  and  it  might  be  necessary  to  retire 
into  the  fortress,  as  a  great  part  of  the  garrison 
must  be  taken  to  reinforce  Massena,  consequently 
she  had  better  go  to  Valladolid,  where  Bessieres 
commanded.  General  Thiebault,  who  greatly  ad- 
mired her  courage  and  firmness,  remarks  in  his 
Memoirs  that  this  was  another  proof  of  those 
qualities  in  the  Duchess,  for  nearly  all  the 
officials  were  leaving. 

In  January,  i8ii,Junot  received  a  severe  wound 
in  the  face.  The  French  army  was  then  at  Rio 
Mayor,  in  full  retreat  before  Wellington,  from 
whom  Junot  received  the  following  letter  : — 

"  Au  Quartikr-Gkneral, 

"  2y  Janvier,  1811. 

"Monsieur, — J'ai  appris  avec  grande  peine  que 
vous  avez  ete  blesse,  et  je  vous  prie  de  me  faire 
savoir  si  je  puis  vous  envoyer  quelque  chose  qui 
puisse  remt'dier  a  votre  blessure  ou  accclerer  votre 
rctablissement. 

"  Je  ne  sais  pas  si  vous  avez  eu  des  nouvelles  de 
Madame  la  Duchesse.  Elle  est  accouchce  a  Ciudad- 
Rodrigo  et  a  ete  a  Salamanque  pour  aller  en  France 
dans  les  premiers  jours  de  ce  mois. 

"J'ai  I'honneur  d'etre.  Monsieur,  votre  tres-obeis- 
sant  serviteur, 

"  Wellington. 

''  A  Monsieur, 

"  Monsieur  le  Due  d'Abrantes." 

Junot  and  his  wife  appreciated  the  courtesy  of  this 


i8ii]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COrRT  347 

letter  and  of  a  message  sent  by  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington to  Don  Julian  that  he  was  not  in  the  habit 
of  making  war  upon  women,  and  was  much  dis- 
pleased that  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantcs  should  have 
suffered  any  inconvenience  or  danger  from  him. 

It  was  not  until  the  end  of  April  that  Junot  could 
return  to  Salamanca  to  fetch  Laura  and  his  son. 
He  wished  the  child  to  be  called  Kodrigo,  but  the 
associations  with  that  name  were  too  terrible  for 
Laura,  and  she  named  him  Alfred. 

They  left  Salamanca  for  Toro  almost  immediately, 
accompanied  by  Madame  Thomiere.  When  Laura 
found  the  inns  impossible  she  often  used  to  ask  to 
be  taken  in  at  some  convent  in  the  town,  where  she 
was  always  received  with  much  hospitality.  The 
Spanish  nuns  at  that  time  had  much  more  liberty 
than  in  most  countries.  They  could  receive  strangers, 
and  Laura  remarks  that  the\-  were  only  nominally 
cloistered,  and  that  in  Salamanca  and  Valladolid  she 
knew  convents  from  the  miiuxdor '  of  which  signals 
had  been  seen  to  be  given  and  received. 

On  one  occasion  she  was  lodged  at  a  convent. 
Junot  remaining  at  the  inn.  She  had  a  charming 
little  room,  the  floor  covered  with  Indian  matting, 
a  dado  of  Spanish  leather  round  the  walls,  mirrors 
with  silver  frames,  fine  linen,  mattresses  of  silk  and 
wool,  comfortable  armchairs,  curtained  bed,  and 
other  comforts  and  luxuries. 

The  nuns  came  in,  two  or  three  at  a  time,  to  see 
her,  and  one  very  pretty  young  sister,  contriving  to 
speak  to  her  alone,  asked  her  in  Spanish  after  Duroc. 
Laura  told  her  that  he  was  married,  which  seemed 

'   A  galler)-  or  loggia  round  the  lop  of  the  house. 


348  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

to  interest  but  not  to  grieve  her.  Still  it  was  evident 
that  there  had  been  some  romance  between  them 
while  Duroc  was  in  Spain,  and  Laura  afterwards 
discovered  that  the  Emperor  had  made  love  to  the 
sister  of  this  little  nun. 

Toro  was,  as  Laura  remarked,  one  of  the  most 
singular  places  she  had  occasion  to  inhabit  during 
the  whole  campaign — a  most  picturesque  old  town 
in  the  province  of  Leon,  perched  upon  a  steep, 
conical  hill  like  a  sugar-loaf,  with  numbers  of  con- 
vents, but  also  a  more  lively,  populous  appearance 
than  she  expected.  Around  it  stretched  a  fertile 
plain  watered  by  the  Douro. 

The  weather  was  delicious,  and  she  longed  to  ride 
all  over  the  country,  which  was  out  of  the  question 
because  of  the  brigands.  But  by  doubling  the  guard 
on  the  bridge  and  posting  soldiers  in  a  little  wood 
or  thicket  not  far  off,  it  was  considered  to  be  safe 
enough  to  have  a  gallop  within  a  certain  distance. 

Junot  had  gone  away  for  a  day  or  two  when  one 
morning  Laura  and  Madame  Thomiere,  having  driven 
down  the  steep  streets  to  the  bottom  of  the  town, 
mounted  their  horses  and  crossed  the  bridge  over 
the  river  which  flowed  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains. 
They  were  in  high  spirits  and  rode  carelessly  along 
talking  and  laughing  without  thinking  where  they 
were  going  until,  after  a  rapid  gallop,  they  pulled 
up  close  to  the  wood  where  the  piquet  was  usually 
posted. 

"  How  delicious  this  is ! "  exclaimed  Madame 
Thomiere  ;  "  what  a  pity  we  can't  enjoy  it  without 
trembling  with  fear  of  the  brigands!" 

Laura  started,  for  she  recollected  that  that  morning 


i8ii]  AT  XAi'or.i-:oxs  cork'T  349 

there  was  no  piquet  in  the  wood.  She  had  forgotten 
to  give  the  order. 

On  hearing  this  Madame  Thomiere  said  they  had 
better  go  back,  but  Laura,  looking  longingly  at  the 
blue  sk)',  the  bright  river,  and  the  deep,  shady  wood, 
proposed  to  go  on.  At  that  moment  one  of  the 
piqueurs  who  followed  them  rode  up  and  said  in  a 
low  voice,  "Will  Madame  look  behind  her?  " 

Out  of  the  wood  came  a  man  on  horseback,  with  a 
brown  vest  and  a  red  feather,  followed  by  several 
others.  There  was  not  a  moment  to  lose  ;  they 
turned  and  rode  as  hard  as  they  could,  with  the 
brigands  after  them.  Turning  her  head,  Laura  saw 
that  their  pursuers  were  not  gaining  upon  them,  and 
the  calechc  which  they  had  left  near  the  bridge  was 
crossing  it,  and  coming  to  meet  them.  Breathless, 
they  pushed  on  till  they  got  to  it,  the  valet-de-pied 
was  holding  the  door  open.  Springing  from  their 
horses,  and  throwing  the  reins  to  the  two  piqueurs ; 
they  hurried  into  the  calcche  ;  the  coachman  whipped 
up  his  horses  and  the  carriage  being  light,  the  horses 
fresh,  and  the  riding  horses  relieved  from  their 
burden,  the  whole  party  fled  at  full  speed  in  the 
direction  of  the  bridge,  when  a  crack  was  heard — the 
bar  of  the  carriage  had  broken.  The  coachman  swore, 
and  the  two  friends  began  to  think  it  was  all  over 
with  them,  but  somehow  or  other  by  great  exertions 
they  got  to  the  bridge  in  time,  the  guard  came  out, 
and  the  brigands  rode  back  to  the  wood. 

Masscna  had  been  a  failure  in  Spain,  and  was 
returning  to  France,  being  replaced  by  Marmont, 
and  now  a  letter  from  the  Emperor  informed  Junot 
that  he  was  appointed  to  a  command  in  the  north. 


35°  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811 

No  words  could  express  Laura's  delight  when  he  said 
to  her — 

"  Laura,  we  are  going  back  to  France." 

Throwing  her  arms  round  his  neck,  she  cried  and 
laughed  with  joy,  and  the  preparations  for  their 
departure  were  begun  at  once. 

Marmont  came  to  see  them  before  they  left,  and 
looking  round  at  the  long  oak-panelled  salon,  out  of 
which  opened  a  small,  dark  bedroom,  he  exclaimed, 
"  And  you  live  here  !  " 

"  Oh  !  this  is  nothing"  cried  Laura.  "  If  you  had 
seen  Ciudad-Rodrigo,  Ledesma,  or  San-Felices-el- 
Grande " 

"  And  you  laugh  !  you  are  merry  !  " 

"  I  have  not  always  been  so,  but  we  are  going  back 
to  France ! " 

With  a  joyful  heart  Laura  set  out  on  her  journey 
towards  France,  with  her  husband,  her  child,  and  her 
friend,  Madame  Thomiere.  They  travelled  peace- 
fully enough  to  Valladolid  and  Burgos,  after  which 
the  road  became  extremely  dangerous.  The  noto- 
rious guerilla  chief  Mina,  a  man  with  all  the  daring 
of  Don  Julian,  and  without  his  good  qualities,  was 
the  terror  of  that  part  of  the  country,  and  with  his 
band  had  just  fallen  upon  and  massacred  a  convoy  of 
French  wounded,  sick,  and  travellers  on  their  way  to 
France.  This  frightful  catastrophe  had  happened  in 
a  narrow  pass  where  the  road  ran  between  a  deep 
river  and  precipitous  rocks,  and  through  which,  not 
many  days  after  the  massacre,  it  was  necessary  for 
the  Due  d'Abrantes  and  his  escort  to  pass.  As  they 
were  very  numerous,  and  as  Mina  had  retired  with 
his    booty    into    the    fastnesses    of    the    mountains 


i8ii]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COCRT  351 

Junot  thought  it  a  favourable  moment  for  the 
journey,  but  Laura's  nerves  were  shaken  by  the 
horrors  she  had  just  heard,  and  when  they  entered 
the  pass,  in  which  the  horrible  remains  of  the  carnage 
were  still  to  be  seen  all  round  them,  she  turned  pale 
and  clasped  her  child  shuddering  in  her  arms,  the 
faithful  Rose  growing  still  more  terrified  as  they  pro- 
ceeded warily  along,  Junot  on  horseback  riding  now 
in  front,  now  behind,  now  coming  up  to  reassure  his 
wife,  and  keeping  a  sharp  look  out  upon  the  heights, 
which  ever  since  daybreak  had  been  patrolled  by  his 
men.  The  journey  was,  however,  performed  in  safety, 
and  at  length,  after  many  alarms,  they  found  them- 
selves at  the  Bidassoa,  the  boundary  of  Spain.  The 
bridge  had  been  set  on  fire  by  the  Spaniards,  but  the 
flames  had  been  extinguished.  In  a  transport  of 
delight  Laura  insisted  on  walking  over  it,  and  again 
set  her  foot  upon  French  ground. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

1811-1812 

AT  Bayonne  they  parted  from  Madame  Thomiere, 
who  went  on  to  Le  Mans.  As  they  stopped  to 
change  horses  at  a  posting-house  near  Poitiers,  they 
observed  a  crowd  of  people  and  a  number  of  carriages 
before  the  door.  A  man  came  towards  them,  who 
, proved  to  be  Joseph,  King  of  Spain,  now  on  his  way 
back  from  Paris,  where  he  had  been  to  attend  the 
christening  of  his  nephew,  the  King  of  Rome. 

With  all  his  old  friendship  Joseph  Buonaparte  got 
into  the  carriage,  sat  down  opposite  Laura,  and 
answered  her  eager  questions. 

France  was  delirious  with  joy  at  the  birth  of  the 
King  of  Rome,  the  Emperor  was  well,  but  he  was 
changed,  said  Joseph,  who  seemed  melancholy,  and 
repeated,  "  You  will  not  find  again  the  Napoleon  of 
the  army  of  Italy,  my  poor  Junot !  No  !  he  is  no 
longer  the  same." 

Before  entering  Paris  they  were  met  by  a  deputa- 
tion of  fifteen  or  twenty  of  the  dames  de  la  Halle 
bringing  them  magnificent  bouquets  of  flowers,  and 
demanding  to  see  the  child  "  born  amongst  the 
savage  Spaniards."     Laura  showed   them  the  baby, 

352 


iHii-i8i2]  .1    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  353 

who  was  in  the  second  carriage  with  his  nurse, 
and  assured  them  he  should  be  a  good  Frenchman, 
and  in  a  very  short  time  found  herself  again  in  her 
own  house  with  her  children,  after  an  absence  of  a 
year  and  a  half 

They  found  society  in  Paris  much  changed. 
Although  Josephine  had  always  favoured  the  fan- 
bo/irj^  St.  Ceniim'ji,  her  influence  was  not  sufficiently 
powerful  to  counterbalance  all  the  opposing  elements 
which  in  the  days  of  the  Consulate  and  the  earlier 
years  of  the  Empire  were  so  strong  and  so  numerous. 
But  the  marriage  of  the  Emperor  with  an  Austrian 
Archduchess  at  once  gave  preponderance  to  that 
party,  which  openly  displayed  its  contempt  for  the 
new  noblesse,  without  incurring  the  displeasure  of  the 
Emperor,  as  would  formerl}'  have  been  the  case. 

The  Duke  and  Duchess  d'Abrantes  were,  on  their 
return,  presented  to  the  Empress,  and  Laura  found 
amongst  her  entourage  several  of  her  old  friends  whom 
Napoleon  had  vainly  wished  her  to  give  up  on  the 
plea  of  their  enmity  to  himself  Now  the  Comte  de 
Narbonne,  M.  de  Mouchy,  the  Comtesse  Juste  de 
Noailles,  and  others,  were  high  in  his  favour,  and 
on  Laura  finding  herself  seated  near  the  Emperor  at 
a  ball  given  by  Queen  Hortense,  he  observed,  looking 
at  M.  de  Narbonne — 

"  Well !  are  you  satisfied  ?  There  is  one  of  your 
friends  with  me." 

"  And  how  would  it  have  been  for  me  now,  Sire,  if 
I  had  obeyed  your  orders?  How  should  I  look  now 
if  I  had  done  as  you  wished  ?  for  your  Majesty 
recommended  me  more  than  twenty  times  to  shut 
my  doors  on   M.  de  Narbonne,  Madame  de  Noailles, 

24 


354  A    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

M.  de  Mouchy,  I  had  the  honour  to  tell  you  then 
that  being  my  friends  they  could  not  be  your  enemies, 
and  it  appears  I  was  right,  since  you  have  placed  them 
near  you." 

The  fete  St.  Louis  was  celebrated  at  Trianon  to 
please  the  Empress,  who  preferred  it  to  all  the  other 
chateaux  and  palaces.  For  the  first  time  all  the  men 
wore  full  court  dress,  except  Marshal  Ney,  who  could 
by  no  means  be  persuaded  to  put  on  anything  but 
his  uniform.  But  the  costume,  which  was  becoming 
enough  to  those  who  by  birth,  manners,  habits,  or 
appearance,  were  fitted  to  wear  it,  made  some  of 
those  present  look  so  supremely  ridiculous  that,  as 
Laura  remarked,  no  caricature  could  equal  their 
absurdity. 

The  new  Empress  was  not  one  to  give  trlat  or 
brilliancy  to  the  court  festivities.  She  had  no  conver- 
sation, and  no  fascination  or  charm  of  manner.  Neither 
had  she  the  gift  of  beauty.  A  faultless  complexion 
.and  pretty  fair  hair  were  the  attractions  which  caught 
Napoleon's  fancy  ;  her  figure,  which  was  of  medium 
height,  was  out  of  proportion,  her  bust  and  shoulders 
being  much  too  large  for  the  rest  of  her  body.  Thus 
describing  her,  Laura  adds  that  she  had  the  glance  of 
a  Kalmuck  and  the  mouth  of  an  Austrian.  But  the 
Emperor  was  satisfied.  She  brought  him  a  great 
alliance  and  the  heir  he  had  longed  for,  and  she  sub- 
mitted obediently  or  apathetically  to  his  most  un- 
reasonable commands  as  long  as  his  power  and 
prosperity  lasted.  When  his  fortunes  changed  she 
deserted  him  without  an  effort  or  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, and  transferred  the  passive  submission  that  so 
highly  pleased  him  to  the  Emperor,  her  father. 


i8ii-i8i2] 


AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COURT 


Meanwhile,  in  spite  of  the  disasters  in  the  Peninsula, 
fortune  still  smiled  upon  Napoleon.  The  birth  of 
his  son  had  redoubled  his  pojuilarit}' ;  the  waitint,^ 
multitude,  listenini^  breathlessly  for  that  twenty- 
second  gun,  which  would  proclaim   the  fulfilment  of 


1.  KM'UlK    DK    LA    POSTKRITK." 

(The  Emptror  Napoleon,  Knipress  Marie-Louise,  and  King  of  Rome.)     (Roelin.) 


their  hearts'  desire  ;  the  roar  of  triumph  and  delight 
which  mingled  with  its  thunder  when  it  came  had 
drawn  tears  from  the  Emperor,  hidden  behind  a 
curtain  in  the  Tuileries  watching  and  listening. 
Marie-Louise  was   a   cold,  indifferent    mother  ;    but 


356  A   LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

Napoleon  adored  his  son,  the  one  being  he  really 
loved  devotedly.  He  would  hold  him  in  his  arms 
for  hours,  and  never  tired  of  caressing  and  playing 
with  him,  though  his  manner  of  doing  so  was  no 
more  elegant  than  other  ways  in  which  he  showed 
his  affection  or  familiarity,  one  of  his  favourite 
tricks,  besides  pulling  the  child's  ears  and  nose  in 
his  habitual  fashion,  being  to  smear  his  face  with 
wine,  gravy,  or  sauce. 

Notwithstanding  his  countless  liaisons,  Napoleon 
had  only  two  recognised  illegitimate  children,  both 
sons.  The  mother  of  one  was  the  young  lectrice  of  his 
sister,  Caroline  Murat.  Of  her  he  very  soon  got 
tired,  and  was  very  angry  when  she  came  with  her 
mother  to  Fontainebleau,  and  had  herself  announced 
in  his  apartments  without  his  leave.  He  was,  how- 
ever, very  fond  of  his  son,  and  settled  30,000 
francs  a  year  upon  him.  This  was  one  of  the 
liaisons  encouraged  by  his  family  in  order  to  annoy 
Josephine. 

But  whenever  the  Emperor  discovered  or  suspected 
any  such  plots  he  was  exceedingly  irritated,  and  on 
one  occasion,  it  having  come  to  his  knowledge  that 
certain  persons  were  intriguing  to  make  a  young 
Irish  girl,  employed  as  lectrice  by  Josephine,  become 
his  mistress,  he  ordered  her  to  be  immediately  sent 
back   to  her   family. 

But  with  all  the  intrigues  which  were  perfectly 
well  known  to  his  court  and  all  his  surroundings, 
Napoleon  did  not  hesitate  to  assert  that  the  worst 
quality  a  king  could  possess  and  the  worst  example 
he  could  set  was  that  of  immorality ! 

The   strange   hypocrisy    of    Buonaparte    in    such 


i8ri-i8i2]  AT  X'APOLEOXS   COURT  357 

matters  was  exemplified  a  little  later  on  in  the 
following  manner.  General  Dupont  Derval  having 
been  killed  during  the  Russian  campaign,  his  widow- 
applied  for  a  pension.  The  Emperor,  however,  dis- 
covering that  the  General  had  been  divorced  from 
his  first  wife,  who  was  living  and  had  one  daughter — 
the  present  wife  being  an  officer's  widow  with  two 
daughters  by  her  first  husband — changed  the  destina- 
tion of  the  brevet  to  the  first  wife,  who  was  very  well 
off,  and  did  not  require  it.  The  other,  being  poor 
and  thinking  it  must  be  a  mistake,  appealed  to  the 
Emperor,  who  replied,  "  I  promised  the  pension  and 
shall  give  it  to  the  wife  of  General  Dupont,  that  is,  his 
real  wife,  the  mother  of  his  daughter,"  thus  em- 
phasing  the  respect  he  pretended  to  entertain  for  the 
marriage  tie  and  his  disapproval  of  divorce.  At  that 
very  time  he  had  already  divorced  his  own  wife,  forced 
Jerome  to  desert  his,  and  exiled  Lucien  because  he 
refused  to  do  the  same. 

A  review  of  a  recent  life  of  Buonaparte  speaks  of 
Napoleon  as  "  a  cad,"  and  in  no  way  did  this  side  of 
his  character  appear  more  distinctly  than  in  the  cynical 
materialism  of  his  love  intrigues.  In  their  vices  even 
more  than  in  their  virtues  stands  out  sharply  and 
strongly  the  difference  between  the  kings  and  princes 
of  Valois  and  Bourbon  and  the  Corsican  adventurer 
who  sat  upon  their  throne. 

The  courtly,  magnificent  gallantry  of  Francois  I., 
the  chivalrous,  faithful,  though  lawless  love  of  Henri 
II.  and  Diane  de  Poitiers,  the  romantic  passion  of 
Henri  IV.  and  Lcz  belle  Gabrielle,  and  the  stately 
splendour  of  the  licentious  court  and  loves  of 
Louis    XIV\    contrasted    indeed    with    the    coarse, 


358  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

brutal  heartlessness  which  characterised  the  intrigues 
of  Buonaparte. 

To  one  only,  to  the  woman  who  has  been  called 
the  La  Valliere  of  the  Empire,  can  the  slightest 
vestige  of  romance  or  sentiment  be  attached,  and 
her  disinterested  love  was  worthy  of  a  better  object. 
She  was  a  Pole,  married  by  her  family  to  a  man  old 
enough  to  be  her  grandfather,  and  she  herself  only 
two-and-twenty,  when,  at  a  great  ball  given  to  him 
by  the  Polish  nobles  in  a  palace  at  Warsaw,  she  first 
met  Napoleon. 

Struck  with  admiration  of  her  fair,  melancholy 
beauty,  the  Emperor  fell  in  love  with  her  at  once, 
and  the  next  morning  sent  one  of  his  chief  officers 
to  her  with  a  letter  containing  proposals  to  which, 
indignant  at  this  kind  of  love-making,  she  sent  a 
peremptory  refusal. 

Napoleon,  much  taken  aback,  wrote  her  letter  after 
letter,  to  which  for  some  time  he  received  no  answer, 
but  at  length  prevailed  upon  her  to  consent  to  an 
interview  in  his  palace  between  ten  and  eleven  one 
night.  He  sent  the  same  personage  with  a  carriage 
to  fetch  her  from  the  place  agreed  upon,  and  waited, 
walking  impatiently  up  and  down  the  room  until  she 
arrived,  pale,  trembling,  and  tearful. 

This  was  in  January,  1807,  and  the  first  interview 
was  followed  by  many  others,  which  continued  until 
the  Emperor  left  Warsaw.  Two  months  after  his 
departure  he  sent  for  her  to  Finkenstein,  and  leaving 
her  old  husband,  who  refused  ever  to  see  her  again, 
she  took  possession  of  an  apartment  prepared  for  her 
by  the  Emperor  near  his  own.  He  was  charmed  with 
her,  and  spent  all  the  time  he  could  in  her  society, 


i8ii-i8i2]  AT  XAPOf.EOys  COCRT  351; 

cliiiint:^  and  breakfasting  alone  with  her.  Of  a  inehui- 
choly,  romantic,  passionate  temperament,  she  was 
entirely  devoted  to  him,  cared  nothing  for  societ}', 
but  passed  her  time  in  reading  when  he  was  not 
with  her. 

In  1809,  after  the  battle  of  Wagram,  he  took  a 
house  for  her  in  a  faubourg  of  Vienna,  and  when 
the  campaign  was  over  he  arranged  that  she  should 
come  to  Paris,  escorted  by  her  brother.  He  took  a 
charming  house  for  her  in  the  ("haussce  d'Antin, 
where  she  continued  to  lead  a  retired,  studious  life, 
seeing  few  people  and  caring  only  for  the  iMiipenjr. 
There  her  son  was  born  and  brought  up  in  secret, 
being  only  taken  b)-  a  private  door  into  the  pctits 
appartoucnts  of  the  Tuileries  to  see  his  father,  who 
was  extremely  fond  of  him,  and  created  him  Count 
Walewski.  His  mother  gave  the  Emperor  a  ring 
with  this  inscription,  "  Quand  tu  cesscras  de  ni  aimer, 
n'oublies  pas  qnc  je  faitnc"  She  took  her  son  to  see 
Napoleon  at  Elba,  where  his  extraordinar\-  likeness 
to  his  father  gave  rise  to  a  report  that  the  King  of 
Rome  had  arrived. 

The  Duke  and  Duchess  d'Abrantcs  did  not  long 
remain  with  their  children  in  Paris  after  their  return 
from  the  hardships  and  dangers  of  their  Spanish 
campaign.  All  over  Europe  the  oUtlook  was  most 
threatening,  h^rom  the  Peninsula  the  accounts  were 
chequered,  the  victories  of  Suchet  in  one  part  being 
counterbalanced  by  those  of  Wellington  in  another. 
In  the  north  things  looked  worse  still.  Russia  was 
growing  more  and  more  hostile,  and  Sweden  had 
become  her  ally  ;  for  Bernadotte  was  not  inclined  to 
be  the  puppet  of  Napoleon.     Louis  Buonaparte  had 


36o  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

resigned  the  crown  of  Holland  rather  than  submit 
to  the  tyranny  of  his  brother. 

When  Junot  had  been  restored  to  tolerable  health 
by  a  course  of  the  baths  of  Bareges,  he  entreated  the 
Emperor  to  give  him  an  appointment,  and  was  sent 
to  Milan  to  take  command  of  the  troops  in  Italy,  and 
to  bring  them  north,  for  war  with  Russia  was  now 
about  to  begin.  The  Emperor  left  for  Germany, 
where  the  army  was  assembling  for  the  invasion  of 
Russia,  the  Empress  accompanying  him  as  far  as 
Dresden. 

Paris  at  that  time  presented  a  singular  and 
melancholy  spectacle.  In  all  ranks  of  society  there 
was  an  enormous  preponderance  of  women,  whose 
husbands,  fathers,  sons,  and  brothers  were  with  the 
army. 

Most  of  Laura's  friends  were  going  either  to  some 
watering-place,  to  Italy,  to  Switzerland,  or  to  their 
country  places,  and  she,  finding  herself  attacked  by 
the  same  illness  from  which  she  had  suffered  before, 
resolved  to  go  to  Aix-les-Bains,  leaving  her  little  girls 
with  their  nurse  and  governess  in  the  Abbaye-aux- 
Bois,  her  baby  under  the  care  of  a  friend,  and  taking 
her  eldest  boy,  then  three  years  old,  with  her.  She 
was  also  accompanied  by  her  brother-in-law,  M.  de 
Geouffre,  and  her  friend,  Madame  Lallemand.  They 
left  Paris  on  the  12th  of  June,  1812,  having  taken  the 
precaution  of  securing  their  rooms  beforehand,  which 
was  fortunate,  as  the  place  was  so  crowded  that  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  fintl  lodgings.  Those  of  the 
Queen  of  Spain,  which  were  opposite  Laura's,  were 
not  nearly  so  good,  and  the  latter,  who  had  agreed 
with  about  twenty  friends  to  meet  there,  now  com- 


i8ii-i8i2]  AT  XAPOLEON'S   COURT  361 

plained  that  the  enjoyment  and  freedom  of  the  place 
was  spoilt  by  its  being  so  overrun  with  queens  and 
princesses,  past,  present,  and  future,  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  go  an\  where  without  meeting  them.  The 
Emjjress  Josephine,  the  Queen  of  Spain,  the  future 
Queen  of  Sweden,  the  Princess  Borghese,  and 
Madame  Mere  were  all  there,  besides  Talma  and 
other  celebrities.  Josephine  had  lost  none  of  the 
charm  of  manner  and  perfection  of  taste  for  which 
she  had  always  been  so  celebrated.  Laura  observed 
that  the  best  proof  of  her  superiority  in  the  art  of 
dress  was  the  contrast  presented  by  Marie-Louise, 
who  employed  the  same  dressmakers,  had  an 
enormous  allowance,  and  \'et  never  looked  well 
dressed. 

On  the  morning  of  the  loth  of  August  the  Princess 
Borghese  ordered  an  immense  bouquet  to  send  Laura 
in  honour  o(her/i'ie.  This  she  gave  to  her  little  son 
Napoleon,  who  was  very  pretty  and  a  great  favourite 
of  hers. 

"  Take  it  to  your  mother,"  she  said,  "  and  tell  her 
that  it  is  from  the  oldest  friend  she  has  at  Aix  ;  and 
tell  her  to  look  at  the  cord  which  ties  it." 

The  cord  was  a  chain  of  pearls  and  rubies. 

A  number  of  Laura's  friends  had  invited  her  to  a 
fi'/e  organised  in  her  honour  at  Bonport,  where  they 
were  to  dine,  and  to  which  they  were  to  go  in  boats 
up  Lake  Bourgct. 

Every  one  who  has  seen  Aix-les-Bains  knows  how 
enchanting  is  the  scener\'  of  that  most  lovely  countr)-, 
the  splendour  of  the  mountains,  the  beautiful  lakes  of 
Bourget  and  Annecy,  the  rich  vegetation,  the  glowing 
colour. 


362  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

The  part}-  consisted  of  twenty-three  people,  and  a 
boat  followed  with  a  band  of  musicians.  It  was  fine 
weather  when  they  started,  but,  as  often  happens 
in  those  mountain  lakes,  a  sudden  storm  came  on 
which  terrified  many  of  the  guests.  Not  Laura  ;  she 
was  deeply  interested  in  listening  to  Talma,  who, 
holding  by  the  slender  mast,  recited  the  first  act  in 
"  The  Tempest,"  his  voice  at  times  almost  drowned 
by  the  noise  around  him.  They  arrived  in  safety, 
dried  their  clothes  by  a  fire,  dined,  and  then,  the 
storm  having  cleared  away,  rambled  about  the 
ancient  Chateau  of  Bonport  and  Abbey  of  Haute- 
Combe,  gathering  the  wild  flowers  which  grew  in 
profusion,  watching  the  moon  rise,  and  enjoying  the 
freedom  from  that  court  etiquette  which,  greatly  to 
their  vexation,  had  pursued  and  annoyed  them  in 
their  summer  wanderings.  The  /r^i'  ended  with  a 
magnificent  display  of  fireworks  on  the  lake,  after 
which  they  re-entered  the  boats  and  returned  to  Aix, 
where  the  next  day  Laura  received  a  mild  reprimand 
from  Madame  Mere  for  allowing  fireworks  in  her  own 
honour  when  the  Imperial  family  were  in  the  place. 

Next  the  Princess  Borghese  gave  a  /i^e  of  the 
same  kind  on  Lake  Bourget,  and  a  few  days 
afterwards  Laura  and  some  of  her  friends  drove  to 
Geneva  to  be  present  at  the/"iV.r'  dti  lac,  and  several 
water-parties  given  b}-  different  people  upon  the 
far-famed  Lake  Leman. 

Laura  met  many  acquaintances  there  and  amused 
herself  immensely,  though  she  was  considerably 
bored  by  a  great  dinner  which  the  Mayor  gave  in 
her  honour. 

One   evening   a   ball,  was   given    by    a    Monsieur 


i8ii-i8r2]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  363 

Saladin  at  his  coiintn-  house.  Laura  was  still 
extremely  fond  of  dancing,  but  on  this  occasion 
she  felt  a  strange  presentiment  of  evil,  which  so 
weighed  upon  her  spirits  that  she  could  not  dance 
but  went  outside  the  ball-room  and  walked  up  and 
down  in  the  garden  which  went  down  to  the  lake. 
Presently  she  saw  groups  of  people  standing  about 
on  the  terrace  talking  anxiousl}^  to  each  other,  and 
as  she  approached  she  caught  the  words,  "  Spain  " — 
"King  Joseph" — "  Marmont."  There  were  pale 
faces,  looks  of  consternation,  and  eager  questions 
when  the  disastrous  news  became  known. 

There  had  been  a  great  battle  close  to  Salamanca. 
Marmont  had  been  defeated  b\-  Wellington  ;  the 
French  had  lost  the  whole  of  their  artillery,  5,000 
prisoners,  and  8,000  killed  and  wounded,  amongst 
the  latter  being  Marmont  himself  There  was  an 
end  to  all  festivities — Madame  Marmont,  who  was 
at  the  ball,  started  for  Spain,  and  Laura  returned  for 
the  rest  of  September  to  Aix. 

But  the  general  uneasiness  that  began  to  be  felt 
increased  day  by  day,  and  put  an  end  to  the  gay, 
careless  amusements  of  that  light-hearted  society. 
From  the  north  as  well  as  the  south  came  mis- 
givings and  evil  rumours.  The  news  intended  for 
the  public  might  be  excellent,  but  private  letters 
told  a  different  story,  and  Laura  had  too  many 
Russian  friends  not  to  possess  sufficient  sources 
of  information  to  fill  her  mind  with  the  gravest 
an.xiety  before  the  end  of  September  saw  her  on 
her  journey  back  to  Paris. 

She  sta)-ed  at  Lyon  for  a  da\'  or  two  to  see 
Madame   Recamier  (who  lived  there  in   melancholy 


364  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

exile,  from  which  the  fall  of  her  oppressor  was  before 
long  to  deliver  her),  and  arrived  in  Paris  early 
in  October.  That  and  the  next  months  were  full 
of  uneasiness  and  alarms.  Letters  became  scarcer 
and  scarcer.  After  receiving  one  from  Junot  on 
the  29th  of  October,  filled  with  affectionate  inquiries 
and  remarks  about  herself  and  his  children,  Laura 
heard  no  more  for  two  months,  during  which  she 
and  every  one  else  were  a  prey  to  the  most  dreadful 
forebodings.  In  his  fanatical  infatuation  for  the 
Emperor,  Junot  had  persuaded  him,  through  Laura's 
intercession,  to  have  his  infant  son.  Napoleon, 
enrolled  among  the  Polish  lancers  of  the  Imperial 
Guard ;  and  she  had  now  caused  a  miniature  of 
the  child  in  that  uniform  to  be  painted  and  sent 
to  his  father  in  Russia. 

The  conspiracy  of  Malet,  though  it  was  promptly 
defeated  and  punished,  disclosed  serious  internal 
perils,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  nation,  hitherto 
flattered  and  delighted  by  the  victories  and  conquests 
which  for  more  than  fifteen  years  had  attended  its 
arms,  was  now  becoming  weary  of  the  ceaseless 
warfare  and  horrible  slaughter  which  many  began 
to  think  too  dear  a  price  to  pay  either  for  glory 
or  plunder. 

Many  of  the  best  generals  and  officers  of 
Buonaparte  had  been  killed,  and  even  amongst  those 
who  remained  a  large  number  shared  the  opinions 
of  the  soldiers  and  the  people,  and  asked  discon- 
tentedly what  was  the  use  of  having  riches  and 
honours  which  they  were  allowed  no  time  to  enjoy, 
children  who  were  torn  from  them  to  perish  in  the 
deserts  of  Spain  or  the  snows  of  Russia,  homes  in 


i8ii-j8i2]  at  NAPOl.EOXS   CO  CRT  365 

which  they  were  strangers,   or   to    which    the}'   only 
returned  crippled  or  invalided. 

The  despatches  published  could  not  be  depended 
upon.  Unable  now,  as  always,  from  the  days  of 
the  Hundred  Years'  War,  till  their  last  conflict  with 
Germany,  to  bear  a  reverse  with  dignity  and  fortitude, 
the  French  adoj:)ted  their  invariable  practice  of 
publishing  false  successes  to  conceal  their  defeats, 
in  the  hope  of  pleasing  the  populace,  who  were  all 
the  more  angry  when  they  discovered  the  real 
truth. 

l^ut  private  letters  brought  the  news  of  the 
burning  of  Moscow  by  the  Russians  and  the  retreat 
of  the  French  army,  filling  Paris  with  consternation. 

Furious  at  being  baulked  of  his  prey,  Buonparte 
ordered  the  Kremlin  to  be  blown  up,  a  piece  of 
useless  spite  worthy  of  a  barbarian,  and  blamed  even 
by  his  own  fanatical  supporters.  The  first  courier 
bringing  full  news  of  the  French  disasters  arrived 
on  the  1 8th  of  December,  and  on  the  morning  of  the 
20th  the  guns  of  the  Invalides  announced  that  the 
Fmperor  had  returned. 

Many,  both  then  and  afterwards,  have  expressed 
the  deepest  indignation  at  the  whole  conduct  of 
liuonaparte  during  this  crisis.  His  desertion  of 
the  unfortunate  arm\',  which  he  left  to  its  fate  while 
he  pursued  his  own  journey  in  safet\',  and  the 
bulletin  he  issued,  announcing  that  "  his  health  had 
never  been  better,"  while  to  satisfy  his  vainglorious 
ambition  thousands  lay  dead  or  dying  upon  the 
snows  of  Russia,  seemed  scarcely  calculated  to 
arouse  the  admiration  of  any  one  not  blindly  in- 
fatuated   b\-    him  ;     while,    on    the    other    hand,    his 


366  .4    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

partisans  maintained  that  his  death  would  have  been 
an  irreparable  loss  to  the  army  and  the  country, 
both  of  which  would  be  much  more  benefited  by 
his  returning  to  Paris  than  by  his  remaining  in  Russia. 

Accompanied  by  the  Duke  of  Vicenza,  he  travelled 
day  and  night  for  a  fortnight,  narrowly  escaping 
being  captured  by  the  Cossacks  before  reaching 
Wilna,  changing  from  a  sledge  to  a  carriage  at 
Erfurth  and  driving  up  to  the  gate  of  the  Tuileries 
after  the  Empress  had  retired  to  bed.  In  the 
morning  the  news  that  the  Emperor  had  returned 
spread  through  Paris. 

Desperately  anxious  for  news  of  Junot,  but  too 
ill  to  go  herself,  Laura  sent  her  brother  to  the 
Tuileries,  but  he  returned  saying  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  get  near  the  Emperor  owing  to  the 
immense  crowds  who  were  pressing  round  him  for 
tidings  of  those  dear  to  them  who  were  with  the 
army. 

Laura,  however,  hoped  that  as  the  Emperor  had 
arrived  his  generals  would  soon  follow,  and  Junot 
amongst  them.  But  having  waited  a  day  or  two 
and  heard  nothing  she  wrote  to  the  Emperor,  who 
sent  Duroc  the  next  morning  to  say  that  she  might 
be  perfectly  reassured,  for  Junot  was  quite  well. 

"  I  know  it  is  not  so,"  said  Laura,  looking  at  him 
steadily  ;  "  and  you  know  it  too,  my  clear  Duke." 

Duroc  looked  down  and  said  nothing. 

"  Duroc,"  continued  Laura,  taking  his  hand,  "  I 
am  very  ill,  perhaps  I  shall  never  see  those  trees 
green  again,"  and  she  pointed  out  into  her  garden. 
"  Tell  me  the  truth  ;  what  has  happened  between 
Junot  and  the  limperor?" 


i8ii-i8i2]  AT  X A f'O LEON'S  COURT  367 

"  Nothing  new,"  replied  Duroc,  who  supposed  that 
she  was  acquainted  with  what  her  friends  had 
carefully  concealed  from  her,  and  Junot,  in  his 
melancholy,  despairing  letters  had  not  explained, 
namely,  the  two  unfortunate  bulletins  in  which 
Napoleon  spoke  with  disapprobation  of  Junot :  in  one 
saying  that  he  lost  his  way  and  made  a  false  move- 
ment, in  the  other  that  he  did  not  act  with  sufficient 
firmness. 

The  misrepresentations  of  Murat  were  partly  the 
cause  of  this  injustice  ;  for  in  one  case  Junot  had 
not  received  his  orders,  owing  to  the  delay  caused 
by  the  state  of  the  roads ;  and  in  the  other  the 
dilatoriness  and  unpunctualit)'  of  one  of  his  generals 
were  in  fault. 

Junot  wrote  a  letter  of  explanation  to  the  lunperor, 
who,  after  reading  it  attentively,  remarked  ;  "  It  is 
very  unlucky, yj;/'  ///f  bulletitis  arc  made  ! ! " 

The  state  of  gloomy  despair  and  misery  into 
which  Junot  was  plunged  gave  Laura  serious 
apprehensions,  only  too  fully  justified  as  time 
went  on. 

The  day  after  her  interview  with  Duroc  she 
received  a  letter  from  her  husband,  begging  her  to 
see  the  Emperor  and  obtain  leave  for  him  to  come  to 
Paris  as  he  was  suffering  dreadfully  from  his  old 
wounds,  which  had  always  troubled  him.  He  was  also 
much  alarmed  about  her  health,  and  most  anxious  to 
see  her,  repeating  always  that  she  and  his  children 
were  now  all  he  cared  for  in  the  world. 

"  My  dear  Laura,"  he  wrote  in  one  letter,  "  it  is 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  I  cannot  sleep,  I  am 
thinking  of  you   and   have  got  up  to   write   to  you. 


368  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1811-1812 

What  a  year  you  have  spent,  my  dear  angel  !  May 
this  one  begin  better  and .  go  on  better  still  !  May 
I  be  able  to  come  and  take  care  of  you,  and  that 
consolation  at  least  lessen  the  sufferings  so  increased 
by  my  absence,  and  your  anxiety  for  him  who  loves 
you  so  much.  ...  If  I  do  not  get  leave  it  will  be 
impossible  for  me  to  get  well  enough  to  be  fit  for 
another  campaign.  Can  the  Emperor  refuse  to  let 
me  come  and  see  my  Laura  in  the  state  she  is 
now  in,  when  I  know  my  presence  would  be  a 
comfort  to  her.  This  climate  increases  my  pains, 
and  yesterday  I  could  not  walk  home,  they  were 
obliged  to  fret  me  a  carriage.  .  .  ." 


CHAPTER   XXII 

1812-1813 

BESIDES  her  own  shattered  health  and  her  great 
anxiety  for  her  husband,  Laura  had  another 
source  of  trouble  regarding  her  brother,  who,  by 
the  false  accusations  and  machinations  of  Savary, 
Due  de  Rovigo,  always  an  enemy  of  Junot,  Laura, 
and  all  her  family,  had  been  forced  to  resign  his 
post  at  Marseille. 

Alarmed  by  the  increasing  melancholy  of  Junot's 
letters,  aware  (although  not  knowing  the  full 
extent)  of  the  harshness  and  injustice  with  which 
the  Emperor  had  now  treated  him,  and  understanding 
the  circumstances  of  the  intrigue  to  ruin  her  brother, 
she  resolved  to  make  an  effort  to  help  them  both, 
and  wrote  to  Duroc  to  procure  her  an  audience  of 
the  Emperor,  saying  that  it  must  be  in  the  evening, 
as  she  could  not  now  get  up  until  six  or  seven 
o'clock. 

The  Emperor  appointed  nine  o'clock  on  the 
following  day.  When  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes 
was  announced  he  started  in  astonishment  at  her 
altered  looks,  exclaiming — 

"■  Mon  Dieu  I    Madame  Junot,  what  is  the  matter 

2t  }fH 


370  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

with  you  ?  You  are  very  ill !  It  is  true!  I  see  well 
enough  that  it  is  not  manieres  de  vapenrsT 

And  he  explained  that  he  had  been  told  she  was 
pretending  to  be  ill  so  that  she  might  have  an  excuse 
for  discontinuing  her  attendance  on   Madame  Mere. 

Laura  raised  her  eyes,  burning  with  fever,  held  out 
the  thin  hands  on  which  her  rings  would  no  longer 
stay,  and  gave  a  contemptuous  denial  to  these  accusa- 
tions, while  Napoleon,  seeing  she  was  so  weak  she 
could  hardly  stand,  took  her  hand,  almost  pushed 
her  into  an  armchair,  and  seated  himself  by  her 
side. 

"  Ah,  ca !  what  do  you  want  ?"  he  asked.  "It  is 
for  Junot,  is  it  not?  Well !  he  shall  come  back — but 
meanwhile  he  complains  much  of  me,  does  he  not  ? 
Come,  speak  the  truth." 

A  vehement  discussion  followed,  during  which 
Laura  pleaded  Junot's  faithful  services,  the  dangerous 
state  of  his  health,  his  deep  attachment  to  the 
Emperor,  from  whom  harshness  now  would  be  a 
deathblow  to  him. 

"  He  would  not  be  in  a  bad  humour  like  Lannes, 
who,  though  he  loved  you,  sometimes  treated  you  as 
he  would  not  have  treated  an  inferior  ;  or  be  sulky, 
as  you  say  yourself  Ney  is  ;  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  it 
would  be  death  to  him."  And,  half- frightened  at  her 
own  audacity,  she  sank  back  in  her  chair.  Napoleon 
looked  at  her  with  a  half-smile. 

"It  is  inconceivable,"  he  observed,  "  how  like  you 
are  to  your  mother  when  you  arc  angry.  Par  Dieu  ! 
you  are  as  passionate  as  she  was  !  " 

"  You  are  ungenerous,  sire,"  replied  Laura  ;  "  you 
know  that  I   cannot  go  away — and  yet  I  have  long 


1812-1813]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  371 

told  your  Majesty  that  I  will  never  listen  to  a  word 
against  my  mother  from  your  lips." 

"  Well  !  who  detains  you  ?  what  arc  you  waiting 
for?  "  said  he,  rising  as  if  to  let  her  pass. 

"  Your  answer,  sire." 

"  What  answer  ?  " 

"The  one  I  came  to  ask  you  for — about  Junot. 
I  will  not  leave  }'our  Majest)^  until  I  have  it,  whatever 
1  may  have  to  bear  from  you." 

"  You  are  a  singular  woman — a  character  of  iron," 
said  the  Emperor  ;  and  resuming  the  conversation,  he 
reproached  her  with  her  visit  to  Madame  Rccamier, 
whose  house  and  her  father's  had  been  the  rendez- 
vous of  his  enemies,  pacing  up  and  down  the  room 
in  his  usual  way,  absolutely  refusing  Laura's  entreat)' 
that  she  might  return,  but  granting  Junot  four 
months'  leave  and  listening  with  attention  to  her 
explanation  of  Albert's  affair,  which  he  received  with 
favour  and  with  evident  regret.  When  Laura  went 
so  far  as  to  say  that  he  owed  her  brother  some  repa- 
ration, and  asked  for  another  appointment  for  him  at 
Paris,  Napoleon  looked  at  her  with  a  smile  and 
inquired — 

"  Well !  Madame  la  Gouverneuse,  what  are  )-ou 
waiting  for?  Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  take 
the  brevet  with  you  ? "  and  presentl}-  said,  "  Mean- 
while, tell  your  brother  I  am  very  sorry  for  what  has 
happened."     Then,  as  she  took  leave — 

"  W'ell !  do  we  part  in  anger  ?  Mauvaise  tete,  mau- 
vaise  tete  !  Do  you  know  you  are  ver\'  good  to  your 
friends,  but  I  think  \ou  would  be  a  real  demon  for 
\our  enemies."  And  with  this  and  a  few  more 
friondl)'  remarks  the  interview  closed  ;  the  Emperor 


372  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i8i_'-i8i3 

turned  again  to  his  bureau,  and  Laura  found  Duroc 
and  other  friends  waiting  in  the  anteroom  to  escort 
her  downstairs  and  to  know  the  result  of  the  audience. 

It  had  been  an  exhausting  one  for  Laura,  but  she 
had  gained  her  point  in  both  cases.  Albert  was 
already  in  Paris,  and  Junot  lost  no  time  in  returning 
after  he  received  the  letter  which,  by  the  Emperor's 
orders,  she  wrote  to  him  announcing  his  recall. 

Her  nerves  and  health  were,  however,  so  seriously 
affected  that  she  grew  worse  and  worse.  She  would 
often  have  eight  or  ten  fainting-fits  in  a  day,  to  the 
great  alarm  of  her  brother,  who,  with  Madame  Lalle- 
mand,  nursed  her  devotedly.  One  of  these  fainting- 
fits took  place  in  her  bath,  and  she  would  assuredly 
have  been  drowned  if  Madame  Lallemand  had  not 
fortunately  been  present  and  saved  her,  lifting  her 
with  great  exertion  out  of  the  bath  and  falling  ex- 
hausted on  the  floor  by  her  side,  at  the  sacrifice,  as 
Laura  records,  of  a  very  charming  pink  crr/>e  dress 
she  was  wearing. 

The  meeting  between  her  and  Junot  was  terrible. 
They  were  both  so  changed  that  they  looked  at  one 
another  in  despair.  It  was  Laura,  however,  who  was 
in  the  most  immediate  danger,  and  as  the  great 
doctor  Corvisart  had  just  returned  to  Paris,  Junot 
called  him  in. 

Corvisart,  like  many  of  the  men  about  the  Court 
and  household  of  Napoleon,  was  rough,  almost  brutal 
in  manner,  but  extremely  clever  ;  and  by  his  treat- 
ment, after  a  time  of  anxiety  almost  amounting  to 
despair,  she  began  to  recover,  and  in  spite  of  the 
severe  cold  of  the  winter,  could  be  carried  from  one 
room  to  another  and  even  "o  out  a  little  in  a  carriage. 


1812-1813]  ^T   XAPOLEOXS   COURT  37;, 

Junot  watched  over  her  with  the  tenderest  care. 
He  would  not  allow  any  of  her  women  to  sit  or 
sleep  in  her  room  at  night,  but,  in  sjMte  of  his  own 
sufferings,  had  a  bed  in  her  room  and  was  always 
ready  to  give  her  the  medicine  and  nourishment 
ordered  during  the  night  at  short  intervals.  One 
night,  when  he  thought  she  was  asleep,  Laura  heard 
him.  sighing  and  groaning  in  such  evident  miser\' 
that,  terror-stricken  and  distressed,  she  called  out  to 
know  what  was  the  matter,  and  as  he  did  not  hear 
her,  she  managed  to  get  up  and  go  to  his  bedside. 
P^ending  over  him,  she  found  his  face  wet  with  tears, 
and  throwing  her  arms  round  him  she  besought 
him  to  tell  her  the  cause  of  his  grief  Seeing 
that  any  further  concealment  would  do  more 
harm  than  good,  Junot  poured  into  Laura's  ears 
all  the  history  of  his  misfortunes  during  the  late 
campaign,  the  anger  of  the  Emperor,  and  the  fatal 
bulletins.  All  night  long  she  listened  and  sympa- 
thised and  com.forted  him,  glad  that  at  any  rate  he  had 
now  the  relief  of  being  able  to  speak  freely  to  her  of 
what  had  been  weighing  so  fearfully  upon  his  mind  ; 
whilst  he  assured  her  repeatedly  that  she  and  his 
children  were  all  he  now  cared  for  in  the  world,  that 
she  had  always  been  his  good  angel,  and  that  he 
had  loved  her  just  the  same  from  the  day  he  had 
first  asked  her  mother's  consent  to  their  marriage. 

After  this  conversation  Junot  seemed  to  a  certain 
degree  to  recover  his  equanimity,  although  he  still 
fretted  and  grieved  over  the  change  in  the  Emperor. 

Of  the  disasters  in  Russia  he  seldom  spoke,  except 
when  they  were  alone  together,  and  then  with  pro- 
found sadness,     One  day,  at  breakfast,  he  read  out  of 


374  A    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

the  Mofiiteur  a  paragraph  announcing  the  return  to 
France  of  part  of  the  troops  from  Russia,  and  threw 
down  the  paper  with  a  contemptuous  laugh  and  a 
muttered  oath. 

"  Isn't  it  unworthy  of  the  Emperor's  greatness," 
he  said,  "  to  try  to  hide  from  the  nation  the  loss  of 
its  sons?  And  how  can  it  be  hidden?  This  paper 
speaks  of  the  troops  entering  Mayence  on  their 
return  from  Russia !  Of  four  hundred  thousand 
men  who  crossed  the  Niemen,  not  fifty  thousand 
have  come  back  !  " 

All  kinds  of  caricatures  and  epigrams  were  now 
circulated  in  Paris,  greatly  to  the  displeasure  of  the 
Emperor. 

In  1809,  when  the  Kings  of  Bavaria,  Saxony,  and 
Wurtemberg,  a  number  of  princes  and  princesses, 
and  the  members  of  the  Imperial  family  were  all  in 
Paris,  an  immense  inscription  appeared  upon  the 
Tuileries  :  "  Foiids  a  vendre — pas  c/ier—fabrique  de 
sires','  at  which  Napoleon  was  much  irritated,  and 
the  author  of  which  he  vainly  tried  to  discover. 

But  in  the  disastrous  days  of  181 3  they  were 
doubly  bitter  to  him,  and  were  to  be  seen  all  about 
the  streets.  One  said  that  he  was  "  mauvais  jar- 
dinier,  car  il  avail  laissc  geler  ses  grenadiers  et  fletrir 
ses  lauriersT  ^ 

In  another,  a  father  says  to  his  son,  "  Venez  ici, 
monsieur  ;  alions,  nc  pleurez  pas,  qu\xi>ez-vous  fait  de 
ces  qnatre  cent  inille  petits  soldats  que  je  vous  ai  donncs 
pour  vos  ctrennes,  il ;/'/'  a  pas  encore  un  an?  Oil  est- 
el/e,  cette  amice  ?  " 

'  '"A  Ijiici  gardener,  for  he  had  let  his  pomegranates  (or  grenadiers) 
ireeze  and  his  laurels  wither.  ' 


1812-1813]  AT  XAPOLEON'S   COURT  375 

"/e  fai,  papa,je  I'ai  {gelce)."  ' 

A  third  remarked,  '^  L'einperciir  a  perdu  tout  so)i 
argenterie  en  Russie,  mais  en  revenant  eji  France  il  a 
t'te  tout  c tonne  de  retrouver  tons  ses  plats  au  Scnat."  2 

A  fourth  was  supposed  to  be  a  dialogue  between 
two  men  crossing  the  Carrousel. 

"  Monsieur,  pourriez-vous  me  dire  qnelles  so)it  les 
statues  que  je  vois  sur  ces  pilastres  ?  " 

"  Oui,  monsieur,  ce  sont  des  J  'ietoires." 

"  Monsieur,  je  vous  demande  pardon,  les  Victoires 
7tont  jamais  cette  tournure  la — Des  Victoires !  que 
diable.  Monsieur,  venez-vous  me  conter  Id  ?  " 

"  Mais  tene.'y — z>02is  voye::  bien  que  ce  sont  des  Vic- 
toires, elles  tounient  le  dos  a  Napoleon."  3 

A  new  campaign  was  now  beginning  in  Germany, 
and  Junot  wrote  to  the  Emperor  begging  to  be 
employed  in  it.  About  a  week  afterwards  he  came 
into  his  wife's  room  with  looks  of  consternation, 
exclaiming,  "  Laura,  I  am  going  to  leave  you.  I 
start  at  once.  The  P^mperor  has  just  done  me  a 
great  honour,"  he   added   sarcastically,  as   he   threw 


•  "  Come  here,  sir.  Don't  cry.  Wliat  have  you  iloiie  with  the  four 
hundred  thousand  little  soldiers  I  gave  you  less  than  a  year  ago  for  the 
New  Year?    Where  is  that  army?" 

"I  have  it,  papa,  I  have  it"  (pronounced  gelce,  '■'frozen,  papa, 
rozett.'^) 

-  "  The  Emperor,  having  lost  all  his  plate  in  Russia,  was  surprised 
on  returning  to  France  to  find  all  his  dishes  at  the  Senate."  (Pint 
means  also  a  flunkey.) 

3  "Can  you    tell    me  what   statues   those  are   on    the    pilasters?" 

"Ves,  monsieur,  they  are  \'ictories." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  monsieur,  \'ictories  never  look  like  that. 
Victories  !    What  the  devil  are  you  telling  me  ?  " 

"  But  look  ! — you  can  see  they  are  Victories,  they  are  turning  their 
back  on  Napoleon." 


37^)  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

upon  her  bed  two  brevets,  one  making  him  Governor 
of  Venice,  the  other  of  Illyria. 

The  appointments  were  really  important  and  dis- 
tinguished, but  they  were  not  what  Junot  desired  ; 
and,  in  spite  of  the  persuasions  and  representations 
of  Laura,  Duroc,  and  other  friends,  he  was  perfectly 
conscious  that  he  had  lost  the  favour  of  his  idol.  To 
him  it  was  exile,  and  he  was  no  longer  Governor  of 
Paris. 

His  farewell  interview  with  the  Emperor,  however, 
brought  him  some  consolation,  as  he  was  received 
with  all  the  kindness  and  graciousness  which  Napo- 
leon so  well  knew  how  to  assume,  and  he  departed 
to  his  new  post  in  better  spirits,  it  having  been 
arranged  that  he  should  stay  first  at  Trieste  and  that 
Laura  should  join  him  at  Venice  as  soon  as  she  was 
able  to  travel,  for  she  was  again  enceinte. 

Although  she  assumed  all  the  cheerfulness  and  con- 
fidence she  possibly  could  under  the  circumstances,  the 
state  of  her  husband's  health  still  caused  her  the  gravest 
uneasiness.  The  many  wounds  he  had  in  his  head 
now  appeared  decidedly  to  be  affecting  his  brain. 
Besides  the  frightful  pains  and  headaches  from  which 
he  suffered,  he  seemed  to  be  half  asleep  all  day  and 
could  not  sleep  at  night  ;  the  hardships  of  the  late 
campaigns,  the  state  of  anxiety  and  misery  caused 
by  the  Emperor's  displeasure,  added  to  the  dissipa- 
tion and  excesses  of  his  whole  life,  had  all  produced 
their  fatal  effect  upon  a  violent,  excitable  temperament 
without  the  slightest  self-control. 

Early  in  May  came  the  news  of  the  victory  of 
Lutzen  and  of  the  death  of  Bessicres,  who  was  killed 
in  an   engagement    the  day  before.      He   was   only 


1S12-1813]  AT  XLiPOLEON'S   COURT  377 

fort\--five,  and  was  an  irreparable  loss  to  Napoleon, 
being  one  of  the  best  of  his  generals.  Bessieres  had 
always  been  a  great  friend  of  Junot  and  Laura,  to 
whom  his  death  was  a  fresh  sorrow. 

The  Empress  was  made  regent  during  the  absence 
of  the  Emperor,  with  a  council  of  which  Cam- 
baceres  was  president.  A  story  circulated  that 
one  day  Napoleon,  who  was  at  this  time  much  irri- 
tated against  the  Emperor  of  Austria  and  out  of 
patience  with  Marie-Louise,  who  kept  quoting  her 
father,  exclaimed  angril)' — 

"  Votre  pere  !  votre  pore  est  une  ganache  !  "  '  and 
went  out,  banging  the  door  after  him. 

Marie-Louise,  having  no  idea  what  the  word 
meant,  asked  the  Duchesse  de  Montebello,  saying 
that  the  Emperor  had  applied  it  to  her  father,  the 
Emperor  of  Austria. 

"  Madame,"  replied  the  lady-in-waiting,  hesitating, 
"  it  means  a  brave  and  good  man." 

"  It  is  strange,"  observed  Marie-Louise,  "  for  the 
Emperor  seemed  angry  when  he  said  so." 

Soon  afterwards,  wishing  to  make  a  civil  speech  to 
Cambaccres,  she  remarked — 

"  Monsieur  I'Archichancelier,  I  am  very  glad  the 
Emperor  has  left  me  such  a  council  as  this,  but 
especially  of  the  choice  of  its  president,  an^  I  hope 
that,  advised  by  a  brave  ganache  like  you,  I  shall  do 
nothing  to  displease  the  Emperor." 

Marie-Louise  was  no  favourite  with  the  French, 
and  did  not  like  them,  which  was  natural  enough, 
for  she  saw  in  them  the  murderers  of  her  aunt. 

Paris  was  just  now  deserted,  only  those  remaining 
'   Ganaihc  means  an  old  fool. 


378  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

there  who  were  obHged  to  do  so.  Laura  was 
amongst  the  number,  and  she  tried  to  distract  her- 
self by  receiving  every  evening  the  friends  who  were 
left,  and  who  came  to  amuse  themselves  with  dancing, 
music,  billiards,  conversation,  &c. 

Next  to  Duroc,  her  great  friend  was  Lavalette,  and 
one  evening  he  appeared  in  her  sa/on  with  so  melan- 
choly a  face  that  she  thoughtlessly  exclaimed — 

"What  is  the  matter?  You  look  as  if  you  had 
come  from  a  funeral." 

With  a  start  which  reminded  her  that  the  remark 
was  unsuitable  at  this  time,  he  gave  her  a  letter.  It 
was  from  Duroc,  and  with  an  exclamation  of  pleasure 
she  opened  it.  It  was  written  on  the  eve  of  the 
battle  of  Bautzen,  and  she  was  soon  buried  in  its 
contents.  When  she  had  finished  it  and  looked  up 
Lavalette  was  gone.     The  letter  was  as  follows  : — 

"  It  is  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  I  am  exhausted 
with  fatigue,  but  I  will  not  let  the  courier  go  without 
sending  you  news  of  me  ;  it  is  so  long  since  I  have 
been  able  to  write  to  you.  But  you  will  not  blame 
me ;  you  know  all  my  friendship  for  you.  I  had  a 
letter  from  Junot  yesterday  which  I  will  answer  as 
soon  as  I  can.  Meanwhile  tell  him  that  the  Emperor 
is  pleased  with  him  and  loves  him  still.  Poor  Junot ! 
he  is  like  me,  the  affection  of  the  Emperor  is  our  life. 
I  cannot  bear  to  see  his  grief  The  death  of  Bessieres 
has  overwhelmed  him.  I  think  him  happy  to  be  so 
mourned  for,  but  if  I  thought  I  should  be  the  same, 
it  would  cause  me  regret.  Must  we  be  the  ones  to 
give  him  new  sorrows  ? 

"  Another  victory !     It  is  as  if  a  fortunate  presenti- 


1812-1813]  AT  NAPOLEO\'S   COrirr  379 

ment  had  prevented  my  closing;  my  letter.  This 
victory  is  one  of  the  most  brilHant  of  the  Emperor's 
career.  You  may  say  so  without  doubt.  Adieu. 
Let  me  hear  from  you.     I  am  anxious  about  \ou. 

"  DUROC." 

At  ten  o'clock  ne.xt  morning  M.  de  Lavalette  was 
announced. 

"  What  has  happened  to  Junot  ?  "  cried  Laura, 
hastening  towards  him'. 

"  Nothing  !  nothing  !  "  he  replied  ;  and  then,  sitting 
down  by  her  and  taking  her  hands,  he  said,  "  M\' 
dear  friend,  a  great  misfortune  has  happened  to  you 
and  all  of  us.     Duroc  is  dead." 

He  had  been  killed  by  a  cannon-ball,  and  the 
shock  occasioned  by  his  death  was  a  severe. one  to 
Laura,  whose  grief  for  his  loss  mingled  with  fore- 
bodings as  to  what  new  misfortune  might  be  her  fate. 

The  calamity  of  Duroc's  death  just  after  that  of 
Bessicres'  was  a  most  serious  one  to  Napoleon,  who 
showed  unusual  feeling  on  this  occasion.  His  best 
generals  and  most  faithful  friends  seemed  to  be  fall- 
ing rapidly  around  him.  A  few  days  later  came 
news  of  the  death  of  General  Thomiere,  the  husband 
of  Laura's  friend,  and  very  shortly  after  that  the 
dread  which  had  for  some  time  hung  over  herself  was 
realised. 

She  was  lying  one  day  on  a  sofa  in  her  room,  rest- 
ing after  a  troubled,  sleepless  night,  when  she  heard 
in  the  ante-room  the  voices  of  her  brother  and  of  her 
di'^c  noire,  Sav^ary,  Due  de  Rovigo,  who,  in  spite  of 
Albert's  remonstrances,  insisted,  in  the  name  of  the 
Emperor,  on  seeing  her,  and  announced  that  Junot 


38o  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

was  seriously  ill  ;  giving  her  a  letter  from  the 
Emperor,  enclosing  one  which  Junot,  obviously  in  a 
moment  of  excitement  approaching  delirium,  had 
written  to  him  and  sent  by  a  special  messenger.  The 
Emperor's  letter  was  as  follows  : — 

"  Madame  Junot,  see  what  your  husband  writes  me. 
I  have  been  painfully  affected  in  reading  this  letter. 
It  gives  you  a  just  idea  of  his  state,  and  you  must 
take  remedial  measures  at  once.  Set  off  without 
losing  an  hour.  Junot  must  be  very  near  France  at 
this  moment  from  what  the  Vicero}-  writes  me." 

Laura  read  the  letter  and  looked  with  a  stupefied 
air  at  Savary,  who  proceeded,  in  a  manner  brutal 
from  its  want  of  sympathy  and  feeling,  to  explain 
that  the  Emperor's  orders  were  that  Junot  should 
not  be  brought  to  Paris  or  its  environs. 

With  an  outburst  of  indignation  Laura  asked 
where  she  was  to  take  her  husband  ;  whether  the 
Emperor  supposed  that  he  could  go  to  the  village 
where  his  father  lived,  and  if  it  were  likely  she  could 
find  the  advice  and  requirements  for  such  an  illness 
there.  Had  the  Emperor  become  an  executioner — 
an  assassin  ? 

"  Hush  !  hush  !  "  cried  Savary,  going  to  the  door  to 
be  sure  no  one  was  listening.  "  If  such  words  were 
repeated  to  the  Emperor  you  would  be  lost." 

But  Laura  did  not  care  for  that.  She  was  ill  and 
feverish  already,  and  this  overwhelming  shock  was 
too  much  for  her.  She  declared  that  she  did  not 
believe  the  Emperor  had  given  any  such  order,  and 
became  almost  delirious,  to  the  great  alarm  of  her 
brother,  until  a  passion  of  tears  seemed  to  restore 
her  calmness  to  a  certain  extent,  and  she  was  able  to 


1812-1813]  AT  XAPOI.EOyS   COURT  381 

enter  into  the  question  of  what  was  to  be  done. 
Albert  remarked  that  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  and 
Savary  kept  repeating,  "  l^ut  what  can  we  do  against 
the  orders  of  the  Emperor  ?  " 

After  a  little  consideration  Laura  decided  that  she 
would  take  a  house  on  the  Lake  of  Geneva,  where 
she  had  many  friends  and  there  was  an  excellent 
doctor.  She  would  start  the  following  night,  and  all 
she  asked  of  Savary  was  that  he  would  send  orders 
to  Lyon  that  if  the  Due  d'Abrantcs  arrived  that  way 
he  was  to  be  sent  to  Geneva  ;  if  he  came  by  the 
Simplon  she  would  be  waiting  for  him  herself. 

Savary  consented,  and  with  many  half-apologies 
and  assurances  of  his  sympathy  and  friendship,  took 
his  departure. 

Left  alone  with  his  sister,  Albert  did  all  he  could 
to  help  and  comfort  her.  He  sent  for  her  children, 
who,  seeing  her  tears,  clung  round  her,  asking  if  their 
father  were  ill.  It  was  arranged  that  they  were  to  be 
left  in  the  care  of  Madame  Lallemand,  who  was  not 
well  enough  to  go  with  Laura.  She  was  to  be 
accompanied  by  her  brother  and  Madame  Thomieres 
but  many  of  her  friends,  hearing  of  her  trouble, 
hastened  to  see  and  console  her.  The  old  Abbe  de 
Comnenus,  her  uncle,  who  lived  with  them,  and  of 
whom  they  were  very  fond,  tried  his  best  to  calm  her 
agitation,  and  succeeded  to  some  degree,  for  he  was 
a  man  of  saintly  life  to  whom  she  looked  up  with 
veneration  as  well  as  affection. 

They  left  Paris  at  eleven  o'clock  on  the  night  of 
the  17th  July,  and  travelled  without  stopping  to 
Geneva,  where  they  arrived  at  ten  on  the  morning  of 
the  2 1st,  dreadfully  tired.     They  went  to  their  usual 


3«2  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

hotel,  and  Laura  sent  at  once  for  Dr.  Butini,  to  whom 
she  explained  the  state  of  the  case,  begging  him  to 
let  no  one  know  of  her  arrival.  In  the  afternoon 
they  drove  along  the  shore  of  the  lake  till  they  found 
a  suitable  house,  which  they  took,  and  having  sent 
servants,  linen,  provisions,  and  everything  necessary, 
Laura  lay  down  to  rest  at  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  thinking  that  Junot  would  probably  arrive 
in  a  k\v  hours,  and  feeling  more  hopeful  and  satisfied. 

Presently  a  letter  was  brought  to  her  from  Lyon. 
She  turned  pale  and  was  afraid  to  open  it,  but  Albert 
exclaimed,  "  What  nonsense  !  Come  !  it  is  only  to 
announce  their  arrival— perhaps  to-morrow." 

It  was  from  Charles  Maldan,  son  of  Junot's  sister, 
a  weak,  stupid  young  man,  who  had  been  for  some 
time  his  uncle's  secretar}',  and  now  wrote  that, 
although  they  had  found  at  Lyon  an  order  of  the 
Due  de  Rovigo  to  proceed  to  Geneva,  the  officer  who 
accompanied  them  had  decided  to  disregard  it,  having 
been  told  by  the  Viceroy,  Eugene  Beauharnais,  to 
take  Junot  to  "his  family"  ;  that  they  were  therefore 
going  onto  Montbard,  where  they  hoped  the  Duchess 
would  join  them. 

Laura  dropped  the  letter  in  despair.  Who  but 
herself  and  his  children  were  "  his  family "  ?  and 
what  hope  of  recovery  could  there  be  for  him  in  an 
out-of-the-way  village?  for  Montbard  was  little  more, 
where  he  could  have  neither  proper  medical  advice 
nor  many  other  things  necessary  in  such  a  case.  His 
father  was  very  old,  and  in  such  bad  health  that, 
although  she  had  passed  through  Montbard  on  her 
wa}'  to  Geneva,  she  had  not  told  him  of  the  serious 
condition  of  his  son. 


i8r2-i8i3l  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  383 

Notwithstanding  her  fatigue  from  the  long  journey 
she  had  just  made,  Laura  declared  she  would  start 
for  Montbard  the  next  day,  and  Albert  ordered 
everything  to  be  ready  for  them  to  set  off  at  four 
in  the  morning.  But  at  one  she  was  seized  with 
violent  pains,  which  resulted  in  the  birth  of  a  dead 
child,  and  nearly  cost  the  mother's  life. 

Calling  for  her  brother,  she  begged  him  to  go  to 
Montbard  to  look  after  her  husband,  and,  unwilling 
as  Albert  was  to  leave  her  in  such  danger,  it  seemed 
the  only  thing  to  be  done.  Madame  Thomieres  was 
with  her,  she  had  a  maid  who  nursed  her  devotedly, 
and  Dr.  Butini,  in  whom  they  had  all  confidence ; 
he  therefore  consented  to  set  off  at  once. 

On  the  following  night  (22nd-23rd  July)  Laura, 
awaking  suddenly  out  of  a  troubled  sleep,  saw  dis- 
tinctly the  form  of  her  husband  standing  by  her  bed. 
He  wore  the  same  dark  grey  coat  in  which  he  had 
last  left  her,  and  he  stood  looking  at  her  with  a 
gentle,  melanchol\-  expression.  She  uttered  a  cry  of 
terror,  and  in  a  moment  Madame  Thomieres  and  her 
maid  were  at  her  side,  entreating  to  be  told  what  was 
the  matter.  They  could  not  see  the  apparition, 
which  moved  slowly  round  her  bed,  and  as  she 
followed  it  with  her  eyes  she  observed  that  it  had  one 
leg  broken. 

"  Light  up  the  room  !  "  she  cried.  "  Give  me  air  ! 
Give  me  light — more  light !  "  and  still  the  ghostly 
figure  glided  about  the  room,  sometimes  approaching 
her,  sometimes  going  farther  awa\',  and  beckoning 
her  to  follow  it.  It  was  not  till  the  morning  broke 
that  it  faded  away  into  an  indistinct  cloud.  Then 
Laura  knew  that  Junot  was  dead. 


384  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

When,  a  few  days  later,  all  was  over,  and  Albert 
returned  to  her,  she  learned  from  him  that  it  was  at 
that  very  time  that  Junot,  in  a  fit  of  madness,  escaped 
from  his  bed,  where  he  was  lying,  having  broken  his 
leg  by  a  fall  in  a  former  frenzy,  and,  in  the  short 
absence  of  those  who  had  been  watching  over  him, 
succeeded  in  throwing  himself  out  of  a  window. 

It  was  a  melancholy  termination  to  a  short  and 
brilliant  career,  for  Junot  was  only  forty-one,  and  it 
was  not  more  than  twenty  years  since  at  the  siege  of 
Toulon  he  first  won  the  favour  of  Napoleon,  by 
which  he  rose  from  an  obscure  soldier,  the  son  of  a 
little  country  lawyer,  to  be  General,  Ambassador, 
Due  d'xAbrantes,  and  the  most  powerful  of  Napo- 
leon's Governors  of  Paris,  for  his  authority  stretched 
to  Tours,  and  he  commanded  eighty  thousand  men. 
His  death  was  probably  owing  to  several  causes  :  the 
dissipation  of  his  life,  the  frightful  wounds  in  his 
head,  the  hardships  of  the  Russian  campaign, 
followed  by  the  heat  of  the  climate  in  Illyria,  and, 
added  to  all  this,  the  excitement  and  agitation  caused 
by  the  harshness  of  the  Emperor  acting  upon  a 
violent  and  undisciplined  nature  and  a  brain  already 
affected  by  the  injuries  to  his  head,  all  contributed 
to  bring  on  what  was  generally  pronounced  to  be 
madness,  but  asserted  by  Laura  to  be  brain  fever. 

Although  Montbard  was  not  provided  with  the 
skill  and  comforts  he  would  have  had  at  Paris  or 
Geneva,  he  had  many  friends  there  of  whose  kind- 
ness and  attention  to  him  Laura  spoke  with  the 
warmest  gratitude.  He  had  recognised  Albert,  been 
dehghted  to  see  him,  and  talked  to  him  of  the 
Emperor,  for  whom  his  adoration  was  still  the  same, 


1812-1813]  AT  XAI'Of.EOXS   COCh'T  3H5 

and  of  his  wife,  for  whom,  in  spite  of  his  man)'  pass- 
ini^  infidehties,  he  alwaj's  had  great  affection. 

The  lunperor  was  at  Dresden  when  the  news  was 
brought  him,  and  at  first  he  appeared  to  be  painfully 
affected  by  it.  The  letter  fell  from  his  hand,  and, 
striking  his  forehead,  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  grief, 
"  Junot !  Junot !  Oh  !  ///ou  Dicu  1 "  Then,  picking  it 
up  and  crumpling  it  in  his  hands  as  he  clasped  them 
together,  he  repeated,  "  Junot  !  Voila  encore  un  de 
mes  braves  de  moins !  Junot!  Oh!  fJion  Dieu  ! " 
and  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  walked  up  and  down, 
muttering  to  himself. 

But  his  sorrow  and  compassion  were  alike  short- 
lived. 

When  he  had  decided  who  was  to  replace  Junot  in 
Illyria,  his  thoughts  went  back  to  the  letter  which, 
although  he  was  well  aware  it  had  been  written 
almost  in  delirium, '  yet  outweighed  in  his  estimation 
twenty  years  of  faithful  service  and  devoted  affection. 

He  sent  orders  to  Laura  that  she  was  not  to  come 
within  fifty  leagues  of  Paris,  and  directed  Savary  to 
go  to  her  hotel,  open  the  safe  in  which  were  Junot's 
papers,  and  bring  away  all   his  correspondence  with 

'  The  letter,  except  a  few  incoherent  phrases,  was  as  follows  : — 
"  I  who  love  you  with  the  adoration  of  a  savage  for  the  sun — I  who 
am  all  yours— well  I  this  eternal  war  that  has  to  Ije  made  for  you,  I 
want  no  more  of  it  !  I  want  peace  !  I  want  at  last  to  rest  my  tired 
head  and  wounded  limbs  at  home  in  my  family,  with  my  children,  to 
have  their  affection,  to  be  no  longer  a  stranger  to  them.  I  want  now 
to  enjoy  what  I  have  bought  with  a  price  more  precious  than  the 
treasures  of  India — with  my  blood,  the  blood  of  an  honest  man,  a  good 
Frenchman,  and  a  true  patriot.  Well  !  I  ask  in  fact  for  the  tranquillity 
earned  by  twenty-two  years  of  active  service  and  seventeen  wounds 
through  which  my  blood  has  flowed,  for  my  country  first  and  for  your 
glory  afterwards." 

2() 


386  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

the  Emperor  and  also  the  letters  of  the  Queen  of 
Naples. 

The  indignation  of  Laura,  when  this  intelligence 
was  brought  by  her  brother-in-law,  M.  de  Geouffre, 
may  easily  be  imagined.  She  was  still  at  Geneva, 
where  for  some  weeks  she  had  been  carefully 
watched  over  by  her  brother,  Madame  Thomiere, 
and  her  faithful  maid,  Blanche,  comforted  by  constant 
letters  from  her  children  and  numerous  friends,  and 
gradually  recovering  her  strength. 

She,  however,  merely  gave  M.  de  Geouffre  a  note 
for  the  Due  de  Rovigo,  in  answer  to  his  offers  of 
service,  saying  that  she  counted  upon  his  friendship 
to  get  her  exile  shortened. 

When  M.  de  Geouffre  was  gone,  and  Albert  asked 
what  she  intended  to  do,  she  replied  that  she  should 
return  at  once  to  Paris  and  live  in  her  own  house 
with  her  children,  as  she  had  a  right  to  do. 

Albert  entirely  agreed  with  her,  and  they  imme- 
diately began  to  prepare  for  their  journey. 

Why  "  this  infamy  had  been  done,"  as  they  said, 
they  could  not  understand — whether,  as  they  sup- 
posed, it  was  the  work  of  Savarx^  and  his  clique,  or 
some  spiteful  feeling  on  the  part  of  Napoleon,  which 
had  destroyed  his  old  friendship  and  affection  for 
Laura,  and  made  him  treat  her  as  he  had  done 
Madame  de  Stael,  Madame  Recamier,  and  the 
Duchesse  de  Chevreuse.  But  Laura  had  never  been 
afraid  of  him,  and  neither  Albert  nor  she  thought  it 
likely  that  Buonaparte,  now  that  his  prestige  and 
popularity  were  declining,  and  the  murmurs  of  his 
enemies  growing  louder  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
would  care  to  incur  the  odium  of  openly  persecuting 


1812-1813]  -^'i    XAPOLEOX'S  COURT  387 

the  widow  of  one  of  his  bravest  and  most  distinguished 
generals,  whose  terrible  death  was  the  subject  of 
universal  commiseration.  Laura  sent  for  her  children 
to  meet  her  at  Versailles,  where  she  slept  and  re- 
mained till  seven  o'clock  on  the  following  evening, 
September  17th,  when  she  drove  to  Paris  and  again 
entered  her  own  house  in  the  Champs  Elysces. 
There  she  found  a  crowd  of  friends  waiting  to 
receive  her,  having  come  on  purpose  to  show  they 
were  not  afraid  to  offer  this  public  mark  of  their 
sympathy  and  indignation. 

When  they  were  gone  and  Laura  was  just  going  to 
bed  there  was  a  thundering  knock  at  the  door,  which 
had  just  been  closed  by  the  Suisse,  a  carriage  drove 
into  the  court)'ard,  and  the  Due  de  Rovigo  appeared 
in  a  furious  rage  at  her  defiance  of  the  order  of  the 
Emperor  transmitted  through  him. 

After  a  discussion,  in  which  he  displayed  even  more 
than  his  usual  insolence  and  brutality,  Laura  said — 

"  Now,  Savary,  you  listen  to  me.  I  do  not  believe 
the  Emperor  has -exiled  me,  but  if  he  has  I  am  sorry 
for  him.  What  complaint  has  he  against  me?  If  he 
has  so  far  forgotten  himself,  he  has  been  set  against 
Junot  and  me  by  our  enemies.  But  now  hear  what  I 
wish  you  to  tell  the  Emperor.  I  will  never  ask  any- 
thing of  him  either  for  myself  or  my  children.  I  am 
the  widow  of  Junot,  the  man  who  helped  him  out  of 
his  own  slender  means  when  he  was  at  Paris  without 
employment  and  often  without  food !  I  am  the 
daughter  of  the  woman  who  showed  him  kindness 
and  care  in  his  youth,  almost  in  his  childhood.  Now, 
Monsieur  le  Due,  I  am  in  the  onl)-  shelter  suitable  for 
me,  my  own  house,  and  I  shall  stay  there." 


388  A    LEADER  OF  SOCIETY  [1812-1813 

Savary  broke  out  into  fury  and  threats,  to  which 
Laura  only  reph'ed,  as  she  rose  from  her  chair — 

"  Monsieur  le  Due,  I  must  ask  you  to  leave  me  to 
go  to  bed.  If  you  want  to  arrest  me,  you  know  where 
to  find  me.  Only  I  warn  \'ou  of  one  thing,  and  that 
is  that  I  shall  not  go  out  of  this  house  without  resist- 
ing— only  force  shall  tear  me  from  it.  I  will  cling  to 
the  pieces  of  furniture,  I  will  call  on  God  and  men  to 
help  me,  and  my  cries  will  tell  the  Parisians  that 
Junot's  widow  is  carried  from  her  own  house  by 
gendarmes  only  to  offer  one  more  victim  to  him  who 
can  no  longer  conquer  nations.  It  will  teach  you 
that  evefy  one  will  not  allow  themselves  to  be  arrested 
without  resistance." 

Much  taken  aback, '  Savary  changed  his  tone  and 
left  off  trying  to  bully  a  woman  who  had  certainly 
placed  him  in  an  awkward  position.  He  knew  per- 
fectly well  that  such  a  scandal  as  would  arise  from 
the  employment  of  violent  measures  was  not  to  be 
thought  of,  and  he  began  to  protest  that  he  had 
always  liked  Junot  and  Laura,  and  did  not  mean  to 
make  her  angry. 

She  cut  him  short  and  begged  him  to  go  away, 
adding — 

"  I  shall  not  change  my  mind.  You  know  my 
intentions  ;  it  is  for  you  to  cause  or  to  avoid  a 
scandal.     I   shall  not  seek  for  one." 

"  Will  you  write  to  tiie  Emperor  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Why  ?     You  must  have  a  reason." 

"  Of  course.     I  will  tell  you  what  it  is.     The  widow 

'  Sav.iry  was  uiic  of  lliosc  concerned  in  the  arrest  and  murder  of  the 
JJuc  d'Knghien, 


i8r2-i8i3]  AT  \'APOLEO\"S  COUh'T  fyS,, 

of  Junot  can  never  ask  anything  of  him  wlioin  she 
regards  as  the  cause  of  her  husband's  death.  His 
being  forbidden  to  come  to  Paris,  where  he  could 
have  had  proper  care  and  advice,  was  the  finishing 
stroke.  It  is  impossible.'  for  me  to  ha\e  anything  to 
do  with  the  Emperor.  I  will,  in  obedience  to  Junot's 
wishes,  treat  him  with  all  due  respect,  .  .  .  but  if  he 
tries  any  injustice  or  oppression  on  me  I  will  resist. 
That  is  my  determination." 

Savary    went   away   without   obtaining  any    other 
repl\',  and   Laura  was  henceforth  left  unmolested. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

1813 

ALTHOUGH  money  had  flowed  like  water 
through  the  hands  both  of  Junot  and  Laura, 
he  left  his  affairs  in  a  most  deplorable  state.  The 
little  that  remained  was  swallowed  up  by  the  debts 
with  which  they  were  always  surrounded.  Laura  had 
still  her  dot,  her  dowry,  and  a  claim  on  the  fifth  part 
of  the  majorats  granted  to  her  sons  by  Napoleon. 
She  had  also  an  immense  quantity  of  jewels  and 
other  costly  possessions,  besides  her  hotel  at  Paris  ; 
but  she  had  no  idea  of  managing  money,  and  her 
quarrel  with  the  Emperor  cut  off  any  hope  there 
might  have  been  of  his  coming  to  her  assistance. 

She  established  herself  again  in  her  magnificent 
house  with  her  four  children,  her  brother,  and  two 
old  uncles,  and  her  friends  gathered  round  her  as 
usual. 

Society  in  Paris  appeared  dead  ;  the  disastrous  news 
that  kept  arriving  from  Spain  and  Germany  seemed 
to  paralyse  every  one's  spirits,  and  in  her  deep 
mourning  Laura  could  not  in  any  case  have  seen 
many  people  ;  but  a  small  circle  of  her  most  intimate 
friends  was  to  be  found  every  evening  in  her  salon^ 

39c 


i8i3]  .-/    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  391 

absorbed  in  the  one  subject  of  anxious  discussion — 
the  war. 

Lavalette  had  in  some  measure  taken  the  place  of 
Duroc  in  I>aura's  friendship,  and  came  constantly  to 
bring  her  the  latest  news.  The  person  about  whom 
she  now  felt  the  greatest  anxiety  amongst  those  at 
the  seat  of  war  was  Count  Louis  de  Narbonne,  who 
had  always  been  to  her  like  a  second  father. 

One  morning  she  was  told  that  Lavalette  was  wait- 
ing to  see  her,  and  on  entering  the  room  was  struck 
by  his  face  of  consternation. 

"  J/^;/  Dieu  I"  he  exclaimed;  "how  happ\- Junot 
is  to  be  no  longer  here  !  We  are  lost  !  The  I'^mperor 
is  completely  crushed." 

News  had  just  come  of  the  loss  of  a  great  battle. 
Napoleon  had  been  beaten  at  Leipzig  ;  the  Saxons, 
Bavarians,  and  Wurtemburgers  had  deserted  him  and 
joined  Blucher  ;  the  blowing  up  of  the  bridge  over 
the  Elster,  intended  to  cover  the  retreat  of  the  French 
arm}-,  had  been  prematurely  carried  out,  ten  thousand 
French  soldiers  being  left  on  the  other  side  to  be 
killed  or  made  prisoners. 

The  French  army  was  driven  back  across  the 
Rhine,  of  three  hundred  thousand  men  only  about 
fifty-five  thousand  returning  to  France.  On  the  3rd 
of  November  the  Emperor  arrived  at  Mayence,  for 
the  second  time  re-entering  his  dominions  as  a  fugi- 
tive. A  few  days  later  he  received  the  news  of  the 
fall  of  Pampeluna,  and  that  Wellington  had  driven 
Soult  out  of  Spain,  which  was  entirely  cleared  of  the 
French  troops.  Spain  and  Portugal  were  now  free, 
but  at  what  a  cost !  Laura  felt  a  double  pang  as  she 
remembered    the    bloodshed    and    suffering    of    the 


592  .4    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1813 

Spanish  campaign,  and  the  thousands  of  French 
soldiers  whose  bones  were  strewn  over  the  battle- 
fields of  the  Peninsula.  For  once  she  did  not  praise 
the  benevolent  intentions  of  the  Emperor  towards 
those  unfortunate  countries  or  blame  their  resistance, 
but  joined  in  the  horror  now  expressed  by  so  many 
at  all  the  useless  carnage  and  bloodshed  for  the  will 
of  one  man,  and  all  for  nothing. 

The  Comte  de  Lavalette  was  devoted  to  Laura, 
and  always  at  her  service.  One  day  she  said  to  him^ 

"  My  dear,  good  friend,  can  you  spare  me  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  ? " 

"  Of  course,"  he  replied,  sitting  down  by  her. 

"  My  dear  Count,"  she  began,  "  you  were  a  true 
friend  to  Junot ;  I  like  you  for  yourself  first  and  then 
for  that  attachment,  of  which  you  gave  him  many 
proofs — amongst  others  these."  And  she  took  from 
a  drawer  of  her  bureau  a  packet  of  love-letters  ad- 
dressed to  Junot,  which  she  had  found  among  his 
papers. 

Lavalette  looked  confounded. 

"  I  see  by  these  letters,"  she  continued,  "  that  you 
knew  of  this  intrigue  of  Junot's,  for  I  won't  call  it  a 
liaison,  and  that  most  of  his  letters  passed  through 
your  hands  to  the  person  who  wrote  these." 

''Comment !"  exclaimed  Lavalette;  "Junot  kept 
those  letters.     It  is  incredible  !  " 

"  Why  should  he  destroy  them  ?  "  asked  Laura 
coolly.  "  They  are  very  well  written,  and  they 
express  a  sentiment  which  might  be  real  and  which 
he  probably  believed.  But  that  is  not  what  I  want  to 
talk  to  you  about  .  .  .  listen  to  this.  Taking  up  one 
of  the  letters,  she  read  it  to  him.     It  proved  that  the 


i8i3]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S  COURT  393 

writer,  besides  carryin<^  on  with  Junot  an  intrigue 
which  had  begun  in  Portugal  '  and  was  continued  in 
Paris,  but  had  tried  unsuccessfully  to  make  mischief 
between  him  and  herself 

Laura  had  been  perfectly  aware  of  this  affair,  and 
on  one  occasion,  when  Junot  was  away,  he  had  sent 
his  letters  by  mistake  to  the  wrong  addresses,  so  that 
Laura  received  the  one  intended  for  Madame  F . 

She  read  the  letter,  congratulated  herself  that  that 
was  not  the  way  Junot  had  ever  written  to  /ler ;  and 
when  he  came  home,  gave  it  to  him,  remarking — 

"  Of  course  we  have  been  too  long  married  for  me 
to  think  of  being  jealous  ;  but  it  was  a  saying  of  the 
great  Condc  that  a  general  might  be  defeated  but 
never  surprised.  If  a  man  is  unfaithful  to  his  wife 
she  ought  not  to  know  it." 

Junot  threw  his  arms  round  her,  declaring  that  he 
loved  her  better  than  all  the  rest  together,  and  when 
she  asked  for  the  letter  which  had  miscarried,  he 
exclaimed — 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  give  j'ou  a  letter  s/w  has 
read  ?  " 

Laura  now  gave  the  letters  and  the  portrait  that 
was  with  them  to  Lavalette,  requesting  him  to  return 
them  to  Madame  F ,  as  she  was  a  friend  of  his. 

The  Fmperor  was  at  Saint  Cloud,  taking  measures 
for  the  defence  of  the  country,  which  was  threatened 
with  immediate  invasion. 

He  had  sent  word  to  Metternich  that  he  was  willing 
to  accept  the  conditions  of  Frankfort,  i.e.,  the  inde- 
pendence of  Spain,  Italy,  Germany,  and  Holland,  the 

'  This  was  a  woman  referred  to  in  the  EngUsh  newspaper  as 
belonging  to  Junot's  seraglio. 


394  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1813 

boundaries  of  France  to  be  the  Rhine,  the  Alps,  and 
the  Pyrenees. 

The  corps-legislatif  assembled  on  the  19th  Decem- 
ber and  granted  the  Emperor  300,000  conscripts;  but 
many  of  those  who  would  formerly  have  followed  him 
with  blind,  unquestioning  lo}'alt}' — Kleber,  Duroc, 
Lannes,  Junot,  Bessieres,  and  many  more — were  dead ; 
Rernadotte  was  fighting  for  Sweden  against  France  ; 
the  fidelity  of  Murat  was  wavering.  Hundreds  of 
thousands  of  his  veteran  soldiers  lay  dead  on  the 
battlefields  of  half  the  countries  in  Europe,  whose 
place  must  now  be  filled  by  the  new,  boyish  conscripts 
raised  in  haste  to  defend  the  country. 

To  Laura's  other  sorrows  was  added  the  loss  of  her 
second  father.  Count  Louis  de  Narbonne,  who  died 
of  the  typhus  fever  now  raging  among  the  shattered 
remnants  of  the  French  troops  in  Germany.  She 
had  not  seen  him  since  junot's  death,  but  had 
received  many  letters  from  him,  full  of  kindness  and 
sympathy,  and  she  felt  his  death  acutely. 

Slowly  and  steadily  the  hostile  armies  from  all 
sides  w^ere  closing  upon  France. 

The  English,  Spaniards,  and  Portuguese  under 
Wellington  were  approaching  from  the  Pyrenees;  the 
army  of  the  North  under  Bernadotte,  the  German 
armies  led  by  Blucher  and  Schwarzenberg,  and 
countless  reserves  of  Germans,  Russians,  Poles,  and 
Dutch  were  pouring  towards  the  frontiers  of  the 
country  which  all  regarded  as  the  common  enemy  of 
the  rest  of  Europe. 

Before  the  end  of  December,  1813,  Blucher  had 
crossed  the  Rhine;  and  the  early  weeks  of  1814 
saw  the  Russian   troops   at    Nancy,  the  Austrians  at 


i8r3]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  395 

Langres  and  Chalons,  and  Bllicher  established  at 
Joinville. 

The  French  arm)'  was  without  money  or  proper 
provisions,  and  }et  Napoleon,  notwithstanding  the 
general  discontent  and  indignation,  obstinately 
refused  to  sign  conditions  of  peace,  hoping 
against  hope,  perhaps  for  a  more  favourable  result 
of  the  negotiations  still  going  on  at  Frankfort, 
perhaps  for  a  general  rising  in  the  countr}',  which, 
drained  of  its  strength  and  manhood,  longed  only  for 
peace  and  rest. 

To  Laura  and  most  of  her  compatriots  of  that 
generation,  so  accustomed  from  their  childhood  to  a 
long  succession  of  triumphs  and  victories  that  they 
had  grown  to  fanc)'  a  sort  of  divine  right  in  France 
to  attack,  meddle  with,  and  rule  over  other  countries, 
all  this  was  like  a  kind  of  nightmare,  which  they 
could  scarcely  understand  ;  but  the  warning  words  of 
Lucien  to  Napoleon  were  now  being  fulfilled  :  the 
Empire,  built  up  with  violence  and  bloodshed,  was 
crumbling  rapidly  away. 

At  last  the  Emperor  set  off,  leaving  the  Empress 
Regent  and  Joseph  Buonaparte  Governor  of  Paris. 
He  took  leave  of  the  National  Guard,  confiding  his 
son  to  their  protection  with  a  visible  emotion,  which 
was  declared  by  some  to  be  a  piece  of  acting,  and 
deeply  affected  others.  The  Carrousel  rang  with 
shouts  of  "  Vwe  rEnipeycur ! "  "  Vive  le  Rot  de 
Rome  I"  and  oaths  of  fidelity  to  be  broken  in  a  few 
weeks. 

At  first  came  tidings  of  successes.  The  Emperor 
had  driven  back  the  Prussians  beyond  Saint  Dizier, 
won  battles  at  Brienne  and  Champ-Aubert,  where  he 


39^ 


A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY 


[i«i3 


defeated  the  Russians,  took  two  thousand  prisoners, 
including  a  general,  and  thirty  pieces  of  artillery. 
Laura  went  with  Albert  to  see  the  spectacle  of  the 


.KISEPHliCONArAKTK,    KINC,   OF  SPAIN. 


last  triumph  of  Napoleon,  when  ten  banners  taken 
from  the  enemy  were  brought  into  Paris.  It  was 
Sunday,  late  in   February,   but    the  sun  shone  bril- 


i8i3]  AT  XAPOLEOXS   COURT  397 

liantly.  The  quays,  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  and  the  Place 
du  Carrousel  were  crowded ;  there  had  been  a  review, 
and  the  troops  filled  the  court  of  the  Tuileries  and 
the  Carrousel.  Joseph  Buonaparte  at  their  head 
looked  so  like  the  lunperor  that,  as  the  procession 
approached  with  its  banners  and  martial  music,  it 
recalled  to  their  minds  the  remembrance  of  man\-  a 
military  triumph  the)-  had  watched  in  the  great  days 
of  the  vanishing  Empire.  But  it  was  only  for  a 
moment  ;  the  silence  of  the  thronging  multitudes 
and  the  gloom  on  the  faces  of  the  soldiers  brought 
the  recollection  that  these  banners  had  been  taken 
within  twenty  leagues  of  Paris. 

These  short-lived  successes  only  rendered  the 
Emperor  more  obstinate,  and  still  he  refused  to  sign 
any  terms. 

To  those  in  Paris  it  was,  of  course,  a  time  of  alarm 
and  consternation  ;  the  entrance  of  the  Allies  was 
now  certain. 

Besides  the  perils  which  might  befall  them, 
especiall}'  if  the  city  were  to  be  defended,  Laura 
was  aware  that  absolute  ruin  lay  before  her.  The 
majorats  granted  by  Napoleon  as  the  inheritance  of 
herself  and  her  children  were  in  foreign  countries 
conquered  by  him,  and  would,  of  course,  be  lost  now 
that  those  countries  had  shaken  off  the  yoke  of 
France.  There  were  debts  amounting  to  one  million 
four  hundred  thousand  francs,  chiefly  caused  by  the 
expense  of  living  in  their  magnificent  hotel  and  the 
costly  decorations  and  enlargements  which  Junot 
against  his  wife's  advice,  persisted  in  making. 

Many  of  the  marshals,  generals,  and  members  of 
the  court  of  Napoleon  remained  rich  even  after  the 


398  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1813 

fall  of  the  Empire  ;  and  Laura  attributed  the  ruin  of 
Junot's  family  with  proud  satisfaction  to  the  fact  that 
he  had  never  been  a  rapacious  robber  like  Soult, 
Massena,  and  many  others.  But  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  their  own  reckless 
extravagance,  they  could  easily  have  saved  from  the 
lavish  sums  which  they  squandered  in  boundless 
luxury,  pleasure  and  display,  what  would  have  amply 
secured  the  future  of  herself  and  her  children.  It 
was  not  only  in  selfish  profusion  that  they  had  spent 
their  fortune ;  they  had  shown  great  kindness  and 
generosity  to  the  members  of  both  their  families  and 
to  many  others.  Even  now  the  Abbe  de  Comnenus 
and  his  younger  brother,  Prince  George,  both  of  whom 
were  nearly  seventy,  lived  with  Laura  and  Albert, 
and  regarded  them  almost  as  their  own  children. 

The  eldest  brother.  Prince  Demetrius  Comnenus, 
who  was  married  and  lived  in  Paris,  came  to  see 
them,  and  pointed  out  that  in  this  desperate  state  of 
affairs  they  must  make  use  of  his  influence  with  the 
King  who  would  soon  be  in  the  Tuileries. 

Demetrius  Comnenus  was,  as  Louis  XVI I L  after- 
wards observed,  one  of  the  most  loyal  subjects  he 
had  in  P'rance.  After  his  return  from  emigration  he 
would  never  accept  anything  from  the  Emperor ; 
indeed,  Laura,  who  was  giving  him  a  pension  herself, 
dared  not  propose  to  him  to  accept  the  post  of 
chamberlain  offered  by  Napoleon.  Everything  which 
belonged  to  the  Revolution  or  the  Empire  was 
abhorrent  to  him,  and  he  would  say  to  her  re- 
proachfully— 

"  You  don't  feel  that  as  I  do.  Your  mother — ah  ! 
your  mother  was  a  true  Comnenus  !  " 


i8i3]  AT  XAPOI.EOXS   COURT  3W 

Letters  from  Burgundy  informed  Laura  of  the 
death  of  her  father-in-law,  who  had  never  recovered 
the  loss  of  his  son,  and  whose  home  at  Montbard  had 
been  destroyed  by  the  Germans  and  Cossacks,  at  the 
sight  of  whose  uniforms  he  had  been  seized  with 
paralysis. 

The  Empress  and  her  son  left  Paris  for  Blois  on 
the  28th  of  March.  Joseph  Buonaparte  remained  in 
command,  and  the  approach  to  Paris  was  guarded  by 
Marshals  Marmont  and  Mortier.  As  the  enemy 
drew  nearer  and  nearer,  the  greatest  terror  prevailed, 
the  wildest  reports  were  circulated.  The  Emperor 
had  sent  orders  to  set  fire  to  the  powder  magazine  of 
Crenelle ;  Paris  was  to  be  blown  up.  These  and 
other  false  rumours  spread  through  the  city,  filling 
every  one  with  alarm. 

Mindful  of  the  late  proceedings  of  her  countrymen 
in  like  cases,  Laura  put  her  diamonds  in  a  belt  which 
she  fastened  round  her  waist,  and  concealed  her  other 
most  valuable  jewels  about  herself  and  her  children's 
governess. 

It  was  the  30th  of  March.  The  population  of  Paris 
were  awakened  at  daybreak  by  the  sound  of  firing, 
and  the  plain  of  St.  Denis  was  covered  with  the  allied 
troops. 

All  day  long  Marmont,  with  about  eight  thousand 
men.  defended  the  heights  of  Belleville  and  Romain- 
ville. 

Joseph  Buonaparte  authorised  Marmont  about 
noon  to  capitulate,  and  himself  left  Paris  b)-  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne  to  join  the  Himperor  at  Fontaine- 
bleau. 

Laura  waited  in  great  anxiet)-,  surrounded  b\-  her 


400  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1H13 

children  and  by  many  friends  who  had  collected  in 
her  salon.  As  night  came  on  she  grew  more  uneasy 
and  uncertain  what  to  do  ;  she  therefore  wrote  to 
Marmont  and  asked  him  whether  she  ought  to 
remain  or  to  try  to  leave  Paris.  Marmont  replied 
that  he  was  now  arranging  the  terms  of  capitulation, 
and  that  he  strongly  recommended  her  to  stay  in 
Paris,  which  would  certainly  be  the  quietest  place 
next  morning  for  twenty  leagues  around. 

The  letter  arrived  at  two  in  the  morning  (31st),  and 
was  read  aloud  by  Laura. 

"But,"  objected  one  of  those  present,  "if  Paris  is 
so  very  safe,  why  has  the  Duchess  of  Ragusa  gone  to 
Fontainebleau  ?  If  the  Duke  tells  other  people  to 
stay  here,  why  does  not  he  give  his  wife  the  same 
advice  ? " 

"  And  who  says  he  did  not  ?  "  exclaimed  another. 
"  Her  departure  makes  me  believe  he  did,  for  she 
always  does  what  he  tells  her  not." 

Every  one,  however,  decided  to  take  the  advice  of 
the  Duke  of  Ragusa  (Marmont) ;  and  in  a  few  hours 
the  Allies  entered  Paris. 

It  was  a  strange  Paris  to  Laura  on  that  and  the 
following  days.  White  cockades  and  scarfs  were 
seen  everywhere  ;  cries  of  "  Vive  Ic  Roi !"  "  Vive  les 
Bourbons ! "  were  heard  in  the  streets.  With  the 
Russians  especially  came  many  old  friends  of  hers, 
amongst  others  Czernichefif.  He  came  at  once  to  see 
her,  and  inquired  whether  she  was  well  treated  by 
those  quartered  in  her  house,  to  which  she  replied 
that  it  might  be  better  or  worse,  that  she  had  Platow. 

"  Platow  ?  "  he  said.  "  Why,  Platow  lodges  with 
Madame  de  Kcmusat." 


i8r3]  -IT  X A PO LEON'S   COURT  401 

"  The  father  d(je.s,  this  is  his  son  ;  and  he  eats 
twelve  dishes  for  his  dejeuner,  as  my  chef  will  tell 
you,  without  counting  his  dessert,  which  is  copious, 
as  my  butler  will  tell  you  ;  and  his  suite  let  my 
servants  have  no  peace." 

In  fact,  younjT  Platow  gave  so  much  trouble  that 
the  housekeeper  of  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes  came  to 
complain  that  he  slept  in  his  boots  and  spurs,  which 
soiled  and  tore  the  fine  linen,  in  which  she  took  all 
the  pride  of  an  old  servant ;  and  her  language  was 
full  of  curses  of  the  Russian  savage.  A  few  days 
later  on,  her  mistress  inquiring  if  he  had  improved,  as 
she  seemed  calmer,  the  woman  rej^lied — 

"  Not  at  all,  but  I  now  give  him  the  sheets  belong- 
ing to  the  stablemen,  which  are  quite  good  enough." 

By  way  of  an  experiment,  the  servants  bought  some 
emetic  powder  and  put  it  into  all  his  food,  wine,  and 
brandy ;  but  it  had  only  the  effect  of  making  him 
feel  better  and  hungrier.  Laura  forbade  them  to 
play  any  more  tricks  upon  him,  and  M.  Czernicheff 
had  him  removed  and  replaced  by  one  of  the  officers 
on  the  Emperor's  staff,  who  was  rather  a  protection 
than  an  inconvenience. 

The  Comte  d'Artois  was  expected  to  arrive  imme- 
diately at  the  Tuileries ;  the  Emperor  Alexander 
was  at  the  Elysce-Napoleon,  both  he  and  the  King 
of  Prussia  being  carefully  guarded. 

From  the  hotel  of  Madame  de  Remusat  Laura  saw 
the  office  of  expiation  on  the  place  where  Louis  XVI. 
and  Marie-Antoinette  had  suffered. 

An  altar  was  erected  upon  the  spot,  Mass  was 
celebrated,  and,  as  the  Emperor  of  Russia  arrived, 
the  Te  Deum  was  sung.     The    Emperor  Alexander, 

^7 


402  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1813 

the  Grand-duke  Constantine,  the  King  of  Prussia, 
Prince  Schwartzenberg,  the  English  Ambassador, 
and  the  25,000  troops  on  the  place  knelt  to  receive 
the  benediction  ;  and  as  they  rose  the  Grand-duke 
Constantine  lifted  his  hat  as  a  signal  for  the  salvos  of 
artillery.  It  was  a  touching  ceremony,  and  Laura 
was  deeply  impressed. 

Within  the  next  fortnight  events  of  the  greatest 
importance  succeeded  each  other  with  astonishing 
rapidity. 

The  Emperor  Napoleon  signed  his  abdication  at 
Fontainebleau  ;  the  Buonaparte  family  were  scat- 
tered. 

Caroline  was  in  Italy,  Pauline  in  the  south  of 
France,  Lucien  in  England,  Joseph  and  Jerome 
starting  for  America,  Madame  Mere  and  Cardinal 
Fesch  on  their  way  to  Rome. 

The  Emperor  of  Austria  arrived  on  the  13th  April. 
Marie-Louise,  no  longer  Empress,  but  Grand  Duchess 
of  Parma  and  Piacenza,  came  to  meet  her  father  at 
Trianon,  and  soon  after  left  for  Vienna  with  her  son. 

The  Princess  Catherine  of  Wurtemberg,  on  the 
contrary,  refused  to  desert  Jerome,  according  to  the 
desire  of  her  father,  to  whom  she  wrote  an  answer 
saying  that,  as  he  well  knew,  Jerome  was  not  the 
husband  of  her  own  choice,  that  she  had  married  him 
to  please  her  father,  but  that,  having  done  so,  she 
would  stay  with  him,  for  she  had  now  become  attached 
to  him,  and  considered  that  her  proper  place  was  with 
her  husband  and  children. 

With  the  Emperor  of  Austria  came  of  course  Prince 
Metternich,  who  was  a  great  friend  of  Laura's,  and 
called  upon  her  the  day  after  his  arrival.     He  told 


iSi3]  AT   X.II'OLEOS'S   COURT  403 

her  that  all  the  tnajorats  were  lost  except  those  in 
Italy  and  Illyria,  and  on  hearing  that  hers  were  in 
Prussia,  Westphalia,  and  Hanover,  he  shook  his  head 
and  said  he  feared  she  would  lose  everything.  There 
was,  however,  one  portion  of  which  she  showed  him 
the  title-deeds,  the  estate  and  castle  of  Acken  in 
Prussia,  worth  about  50,000  francs  a  year,  of  which 
there  might  be  some  hope,  as  it  was  the  property  of 
the  King  of  Prussia,  of  which  he  had  a  right  to  dispose 
and  which  he  had  ceded  by  three  different  agreements. 

"You  must  appeal  for  that,"  he  said,  "and  I  will 
support  you.  But  if  }ou  take  my  advice  you  will 
address  yourself  first  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia, 
and  get  his  protection  ;  he  has  great  influence  over 
the  King  of  Prussia." 

Accordingly,  Laura  spoke  to  M.  Czernicheff,  who 
promised  to  ask  the  Emperor  Alexander  to  give  her 
an  audience,  but  added  that  he  did  not  believe  he 
would,  and  on  asking  why,  only  laughed. 

"  I  told  you  so !  "  he  exclaimed  next  day.  "  The 
Emperor  will  not  receive  you  at  the  Elysee." 

"  Eh  !  mon  Dieii  !  why  not  ?  " 

"  He  will  not  receive  you  at  the  PZlysee  because 
he  wishes  to  have  the  honour  of  coming  to  see  you 
liimself.  Those  were  his  own  words  ;  are  they  not 
charming? " 

"  So  much  so,  that   1  am  deeply  touched  by  them." 

"  Yes  ;  he  wants  to  see  the  widow  of  a  man  whose 
name  he  knows  so  well.  General  Junot  was  one  of 
the  brightest  jewels  in  the  Emperor  Napoleon's  crown 
of  glory.  The  Emperor  of  Russia  will  be  here  to- 
morrow between  twelve  and  one,  if  that  hour  suits 
you." 


404  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1813 

"  We  have  not  been  accustomed  to  such  poHteness 
in  imperial  manners,"  observed  Laura. 

The  following  day,  at  about  one  o'clock,  the  Emperor 
Alexander  arrived  in  a  coupe  with  only  one  servant, 
and  leading  her  eldest  boy  by  the  hand,  Laura 
hurried  to  the  great  staircase  to  meet  him.^ 

He  took  her  hand  and  spoke  to  her  with  such  kind- 
ness and  courtesy  that  he  won  her  confidence  and 
attachment  at  once.  She  presented  her  other  children, 
and  when  they  had  retired,  the  Emperor  led  her  to 
an  armchair,  made  her  sit  down,  and  placed  himself 
upon  an  ordinary  chair  near  her. 

"  But,  Sire,  it  is  impossible  that  I  can  allow  your 
Majesty  to  sit  there !  "  cried  Laura,  starting  up. 

"  Sit  still  !  sit  still !  "  he  said,  smiling.  "  I  must  sit 
here  to  be  able  to  hear  you.  You  know  I  am  deaf  of 
one  ear  ;  and  now,  tell  me  what  you  want  of  me." 

Laura  explained  the  desperate  condition  of  her 
affairs  to  the  Emperor,  who  directed  her  to  make  a 
note  of  what  she  wished  done,  and  promised  his 
support  and  help.  He  stayed  a  long  time  talking  to 
her  of  many  things — of  his  own  romantic  affection 
for  Napoleon,  of  his  grief  at  being  betrayed  by  him, 
of  his  hatred  and  contempt  for  Savary,  in  which  also 
Laura  sympathised.  He  declared  he  would  not  see 
Savary,  who  had  been  guilty  of  the  murder  of  the 
Due  d'Enghien  and  had  the  insolence  to  set  spies 
upon  himself  in  his  palace  at  Petersbourg. 

"  They  say  his  wife  is  very  beautiful,"  he  continued. 
"She  has  asked  me  for  an  audience  to-morrow.  I 
could  not  refuse  her.  But  what  do  either  of  them 
want  with  me? — that  I  should  persuade  the  Comtej 

'  The  Kiii|)eror  Alexander  was  then  about  thirty-seven. 


i«i3]  -iT   S'APOLEOXS   COURT  405 

d'Artois  that  he  was  innocent  in  the  affair  of  the  Due 
d'Enghien?  It's  impossible.  As  to  Savary,  I  won't 
see  him  ;  that  I  am  resolved.  I  will  attend  to  your 
affair,  Madame  la  Duchesse,  and  I  am  sure  Louis 
XV^III.  will  do  a  great  deal  for  the  noblesse  of  the 
empire.  He  ought  to ;  and  besides,  you  belong  to  his 
kingdom  too.  Not  only  that,  but  you  are  of  his  rank. 
Are  you  not  a  Comnenus?  " 

"  My  mother  was  a  Comnenus,  Sire,  but  I  am  not." 

"  Well  !  you  have  royal  blood,  and  for  nous  autres 
souverains  that  binds  us  to  help  our  relations  who  are 
in  trouble.  Louis  XVIII.  was  exiled  and  unfortunate 
himself  a  little  while  ago,  and  he  is  still  at  Hartwell." 

The  Emperor  Alexander  talked  to  Laura  as  if  he 
had  known  her  for  twenty  years,  and  she  already  felt 
on  terms  of  friendship  with  him.  He  spoke  much  of 
Junot,  and  asked  if  Napoleon  had  not  treated  him 
with  great  injustice.  Then  he  told  her  that  he  had 
read  a  letter  of  hers  to  Napoleon  from  Geneva  v/hich 
had  been  captured  by  his  Cossacks,  and  had  filled  him 
with  admiration  and  .sympathy  for  her  and  indigna- 
tion against  Savary,  who  was  evidently  the  enemy  of 
Junot  and  herself. 

Looking  round  the  room,  he  inquired  if  she  had  no 
portrait  of  Junot  among  so  many  pictures. 

"  If  your  Majesty  would  like  to  see  it,  I  could  show 
you  one  that  is  very  like  him,"  replied  Laura,  "but  it 
would  be  necessary  to  take  the  trouble  to  go  all 
through  the  apartment." 

"Will  you  show  me  the  way?"  asked  Alexander, 
rising  and  offering  her  his  arm. 

They  crossed  the  billiard-room,  the  library,  which 
was  one  of  the  most  magnificent  collections  in  Europe 


4o6  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1813 

then  a  large  room  furnished  in  antique  style,  then 
Laura's  bedroom,  then  another  room,  and  finally- 
arrived  in  her  study  or  cabinet  de  travail^  where  hung 
the  portrait  of  Junot  at  twenty-seven  in  the  uniform 
of  a  general.  It  was  painted  by  Gros,  and  given  to 
him  by  the  Government  as  a  reward  for  his  gallant 
conduct  when  with  three  hundred  men  he  fought  and 
put  to  flight  four  thousand  Turks  at  Nazareth. 

When  the  Emperor  at  last  rose  to  take  leave  of  her, 
Laura  went  with  him  towards  the  staircase. 

"  Why,  what  are  you  doing  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Sire,  your  Majesty  will  allow  me " 

"  I  shall  not  allow  anything  at  all.  What !  did 
you  want  to  come  down  to  the  carriage  with  me  ? " 

"  Certainly,  Sire,"  she  replied,  laughing  at  his 
astonished  look. 

"  To  my  carriage  !  "  he  cried,  laughing  too.  '•  Eh  ! 
vion  Dieti  !  what  would  they  say  of  me  at  Petersboiirg 
if  they  saw  me  allowing  a  woman  to  come  down  the 
staircase  to  accompany  me  !  " 

"  But  we  are  not  at  St.  Petersburg,  Sire,"  entreated 
Laura,  clasping  her  hands. 

"  Well,  then,  submit  to  the  conqueror,"  said  he, 
taking  her  hand  and  leading  her  back  to  the  door  of 
the  drawing-room,  adding,  "  I  warn  you  that  if  you 
persist  I  shall  come  and  reconduct  you " 

"  I  like  exercise.  Sire." 

"  And  if  I  coiiunafid yon  not  to  come  any  farther?" 

"  But  I  am  not  your  Majesty's  subject." 

"  Well,  then  1  shall  not  come  and  see  you  again. 
You  will  not  punish  me  so  much  as  that  ?  " 

"  The  fear  of  that  will  make  me  obey  more  than 
all  the  rest,  Sire." 


i8i3]  AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  407 

He  ran  down  the  staircase,  and  as  he  drove  away 
put  his  head  out  of  the  carria^^e  to  salute  Laura, 
who  stood  at  the  window. 

Very  soon  he  came  again,  walking  in  one  morning 
unattended,  and  stayed  a  long  time,  conversing  upon 
many  subjects.  Again  he  promised  to  do  all  he 
could  for  her  with  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  tried  to 
persuade  her  to  come  to  St.  Petersburg,  where  he 
assured  her  that  she  should  be  well  received  and 
entertained. 

He  asked  whether  she  would  have  any  objection  to 
another  lodger  ;  as  it  would  be  most  convenient  if  her 
ground  floor,  which  she  was  not  now  using,  could  be 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  Lord  Cathcart,  the  English 
Ambassador,  assuring  her  that  she  would  like  him 
very  much,  he  would  be  deliglUed  to  be  of  any  use  to 
her,  and  adding,  "  And  when  I  come  to  see  him  it 
will  be  a  pretext  for  me  to  come  upstairs  to  see  his 
hostess  and  hear  if  she  has  any  complaints  to  make 
of  him." 

This  apartment,  which  had  only  been  used  for 
reception,  and  was  now  disused,  consisted  of  four 
large  drawing-rooms,  two  small  card-rooms,  a  large 
room  which  could  be  made  a  bedroom,  a  bath-room, 
and  an  immense  gallery  ;  the  rooms  opened  into  the 
garden. 

Lord  Cathcart  came  the  next  morning,  and  Laura 
agreed  to  let  him  the  apartment  and  part  of  the 
stables,  as  since  Junot's  death  she  had  sold  all  the 
horses  except  five. 

The  rooms  on  the  first  floor  looking  on  the  garden, 
which  were  Laura's  when  Junot  was  alive,  she  let  to 
Sir  and  Lady  Cole. 


4o8  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1813 

With  all  of  these  Laura  got  on  extremely  well. 
She  found  Lord  Cathcart  charming,  and  was  on  very 
friendly  terms  with  the  Coles.  They  were  all  to  be 
found  frequently  in  her  sa/ou  in  the  evening,  as  in 
fact  were  most  of  the  celebrities  then  at  Paris. 
Prince  Metternich  came  almost  every  day  ;  the  Duke 
of  Wellington,  of  whose  courtesy  and  kindness  to 
Junot  and  herself  in  Spain  she  retained  a  grateful 
recollection,  came  to  make  her  acquaintance  almost 
directly  he  arrived.  The  only  annoyance  she  ex- 
perienced was  from  an  insolent  fellow  who  appeared 
one  day  when  she  was  out  and  insisted  on  being 
shown  over  the  house,  even  to  the  cellars,  which  were 
amongst  the  most  celebrated  in  France,  and,  regard- 
less of  the  representations  of  the  Diaitre-cT hotel  that 
the  house  was  already  full,  proceeded  to  mark  the 
doors  of  different  rooms  as  lodgings  for  various 
officers  of  the  Prince  Royal  of  Sweden,  to  whose  staff 
he  declared  himself  to  belong. 

On  hearing  of  what  had  happened,  Laura  wrote 
at  once  to  the  Prince  of  Sweden  (Bernadotte)  to 
complain,  and  within  an  hour  his  aide-de-camp,  the 
Count  de  Brahe,  was  announced,  a  remarkably 
pleasant  man  about  thirty  years  old  in  the  uniform 
of  the  White  Hussars,  with  many  excuses  from  the 
Prince,  who  assured  her  that  the  culprit  should  be 
found  and  that  he  himself  would  call  in  a  day  or  two 
to  apologise.  When  he  did  so  he  explained  that  he 
had  known  nothing  of  the  affair,  and  had  found  that 
the  fellow,  who  occupied  a  subordinate  post  in  his 
household,  was  a  Frenchman. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

1 8 1 4- 1 8 1 6 

AMONG  the  English  who,  althouc^h  the  poHtical 
enemies,  were  the  personal  friends  of  the 
Duchesse  d'Abrantes,  were  a  very  handsome  aide-de- 
camp  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  his  sister,  the 
beautiful  Miss  Bathurst,  who  stayed,  in  her  house 
with  Lad\'  Cole,  and  whose  melancholy  fate  soon 
afterwards  has  always  been  remembered  in  Rome. 
She  was  riding  with  a  party  of  friends  along  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber  when  her  horse  took  fright, 
reared  suddenly,  and  plunged  with  her  into  the  river, 
where  she  was  drowned.  The  salon  of  the  Duchesse 
d'Abrantes  was  very  much  the  fashion  amongst  the 
foreign  diplomatic  society. 

"  Will  you  promise  not  to  laugh  too  much  if  I 
bring  you  one  of  my  friends  ?  "  asked  Metternich  one 
day. 

"  That  depends.  You  know  I  am  naturally  merry. 
Of  what  is  it  a  question  ?  " 

"  Of  a  friend  of  mine,  who,  I  warn  \'ou,  is  not 
handsome.     In  fact,  he  is  called  the  monster-prince." 

"  You  are  joking." 

"  Not  at  all.     Of  course  he  has  another  name,  and 
409 


4IO  .-I    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [i8i4-:8i6 

that  is  Wenzel  von  Lichtenstein.  His  brother, 
Prince  Maurice  von  Lichtenstein,  has  asked  me  to 
present  him  to  you  ;    he  is  very  different." 

Thus  prepared,  Laura  duly  received  the  Prince, 
whose  unfortunately  notorious  appearance  had  not 
been  exaggerated,  but  who  was  so  fascinating  as  to 
have  caused   more  than   one  grande  passion. 

Lord  Castlereagh  also  wished  to  make  her 
acquaintance,  and  Lord  Cathcart  invited  her  to 
a  great  dinner  to  meet  him  and  Bliicher  ;  but  she 
declined,  for  she  had  the  greatest  hatred  for  Bliicher, 
and  did  not  wish  to  meet  him. 

Therefore,  having  promised  to  dine  quietly  another 
time  with  Lord  Castlereagh,  she  remained  in  her 
own  rooms  while  the  banquet  went  on  below. 
Besides  her  aversion  to  Bliicher,  she  felt  that  she 
could  not  bear  to  be  present  at  the  dinner  given 
in  her  own  gallery,  where  so  often  she  and  Junot  had 
entertained  the  generals  and  officers  of  the  Empire  ; 
and  now  that  it  was  all  swept  away,  as  the  martial 
music  of  their  conquerors  rose  to  her  ears  melancholy 
recollections  filled  her  mind  and  depressed  the 
usually  elastic  spirits  which  with  her  light-hearted, 
sunny  temperament  supported  her  through  so  many 
of  the  trials  and  difficulties  of  her  chequered  life. 

A  few  days  later  she  fulfilled  her  promise  of 
dining  with  Lord  Cathcart  to  meet  Lord  Castlereagh. 
The  Duke  of  Wellington  was  also  present,  and  asked 
if  he  could  see  the  child  born  in  the  Spanish  campaign, 
whom,  with  his  mother, he  had  certainly  on  one  occasion 
saved  from  the  brigands.  Laura  went  up  and,  taking 
him  out  of  bed,  wrapped  him  up  and  brought  him 
downstairs.     The  little  one  laughed  and  played  with 


i8r4-i8i6]  AT  NAPOLEOS'S   COrRT  411 

the  stars  and  orders  of  Wellington  and  the  rest, 
when  suddenly  he  hid  his  face  in  terror  on  his 
mother's  shoulder  as  a  remarkabl)-  ugly  man  entered. 

It  was  Blucher.  Laura  ran  upstairs  with  the  child, 
and  Lord  Cathcart  made  profuse  apologies,  saying  he 
had  come  in  by  chance. 

"Where  is  he.^"  said  Laura,  looking  round  the 
room. 

"  Why,  he  is  gone.  I  told  him  that  )ou  could  not 
bear  to  see  him,  so  he  went." 

"  How  cou/d  you  ?  " 

"Bah!  he  is  gone  to  the  Cercle.  If  he  wins,  the 
impression  will  be  effaced  by  his  good-humour,  and  if 
he  loses,  by  his  ill-humour." 

In  the  meantime  preparations  were  being  pushed 
on  for  the  departure  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  for 
Elba  ;  and  having  received  a  letter  from  Fontaine- 
bleau  containing  many  details  on  the  subject,  Laura 
went  to  La  Malmaison  to  see  the  Empress  Josephine, 
whom  she  knew  to  be  very  anxious  for  news  of  him. 

It  was  early  when  she  arrived,  and  Josephine  was 
still  in  bed  ;  but  on  hearing  that  the  Duchesse 
d'Abrantes  was  there  she  ordered  her  to  be  instantly 
admitted.  Stretching  out  her  arms  to  her,  she  cried, 
in  a  voice  choked  with  tears,  "  Ah  !  Madame  Junot ! 
Madame  Junot !  " 

Laura  burst  into  tears  also,  for  the  sight  of  those 
rooms  and  corridors,  once  so  familiar,  and  where  she 
had  spent  so  many  happ\-  da)-s,  was  too  much  for 
her. 

When  the  Empress  heard  that  Laura  had  a  letter 
from  Fontainebleau  she  asked  eagerly  that  ever)-  word 
should  be  read  to  her,  as  she  wished  to  know  a//. 


412  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1814-1816 

It  was  a  difficult  letter  to  read  her,  as  it  was  full  of 
allusions  to  the  Empress  Marie-Louise  and  the  King 
of  Rome. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  woman  ?  "  she  asked, 
when  Laura  had  finished  it. 

"  What  I  have  always  thought,  Madame  :  that  she 
is  a  woman  who  never  ought  to  have  crossed  the 
frontier  between   France  and  Germany." 

Josephine  seemed  pleased  with  Laura's  opinions 
and  sympathy,  and  presently  said — 

"  Madame  Junot,  I  have  a  great  mind  to  write  to 
Napoleon.  Do  you  know  why?  I  want  him  to  let 
me  go  to  Elba  with  him  if  Marie-Louise  does  not. 
Do  you  think  she  will  go  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  so — she  is  not  capable  of  it." 

Josephine  then  asked  Laura  to  get  Prince  Metter- 
nich  to  use  his  influence  in  her  favour  as  he  was  her 
great  friend,  and  it  was  hard  to  convince  her  of  the 
impossibility  of  her  plan.  Laura  represented  that  it 
was  very  doubtful  whether  Napoleon  himself  would 
consent  ;  and  on  her  asking  why  not,  replied, 
"  Because  his  sisters  will  certainly  go,  Madame,  and 
Madame  Mere  too.  Let  your  Majesty  recollect  all 
she  suffered  even  on  the  throne  of  France  and  in  the 
palace  of  the  Tuileries,  protected  by  being  a  sovereign 
and  wife  of  the  Emperor.  If  even  then  the  sisters  of 
Napoleon  did  not  respect  your  trancjuillity,  what  would 
they  do  now  ?  " 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  said  Josephine  sadly, 
leaning  her  face  upon  her  hand.  "Yes,  I  believe  you 
are  right.     Have  you  seen  the  Comte  d'Artois  ?  " 

"  No,  Madame." 

Josephine  then  expressed  her  anxiety  lest  a  report 


i8i4-i8i6]  AT  \'APOLEO\'S  COURT  413 

should  be  well-founded  which  sjiid  that  she  was  to 
lose  the  title  of  FLmpress  and  be  called  the  Duchess 
of  Navarre,  but  on  this  point  Laura  could  give  her 
no  information. 

The  dejeuner  was  in  the  little  dining-room,  also 
full  of  associations  and  memories.  .Afterwards  they 
walked  in  the  conservatory,  gardens,  and  park,  where 
the  Empress  showed  Laura  many  of  the  plants  and 
shrubs  she  had  sent  her  from  Spain  and  Portugal. 

Josephine  was  extremely  fond  of  flowers,  and  when 
Laura  asked  permission  to  present  Lord  Cathcart, 
who  had  requested  her  to  do  so,  she  replied — 

"  Yes  !  bring  him  to  see  me,  but  let  it  be  at  the 
end  of  the  month.  I  .should  like  the  tulip-trees  to  be 
in  flower  and  the  park  in  all  its  beauty." 

Laura  remained  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  the 
Empress  showing  her  much  affection  and  sympath}', 
and  saying,  "  You  know,  if  you  don't  care  to  go  to 
the  Tuileries,  you  can  always  come  to  La  ALalmaison, 
and  stay  altogether  if  you  like.  The  Emperor  has 
been  unjust  to  you  and  Junot,  it  is  for  me  to  make 
reparation.  Your  daughter  is  my  god-daughter  and 
I  ought  to  do  for  you  and  her  what  I  am  sure 
Buonaparte  would  have  done  if  he  had  remained 
upon    the   throne." 

As  the  time  drew  near  for  the  departure  of 
Napoleon,  Laura's  bitter  resentment  against  the 
man  to  whom  she  attributed  the  death  of  her 
husband  was  swallowed  up  in  pity  and  regret  for 
the  hero  of  her  youth,  the  greatest  commander  and 
statesman  of  modern  times,  the  extraordinarx*  genius 
who  had  saved  France  from  the  horrors  of  the 
Revolution,  given  her  a  magnificent  code  of  laws  and 


414  .-1    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1814-1816 

placed  her,  for  a  few  short  years,  at  the  head  of  all 
the  nations  in  Europe. 

Louis  XVIII.  was  approaching  the  capital,  and 
Buonaparte,  after  a  sorrowful  parting  with  the 
Imperial  Guard  and  the  few  friends  and  followers 
still  faithful  to  him,  was  travelling  from  Fontaine- 
bleau  southwards,  often  assailed  by  the  curses  and 
threats  of  the  furious  mobs  which  had  once  received 
him  with  acclamations.  More  than  once  he  had 
been  in  danger  of  his  life,  and  on  one  occasion  saved 
himself  by  putting  on  an  Austrian  uniform. 

"  I  lost  two  of  my  sons  at  la  Mojalsk  ! "  cried  one 
woman. 

"  I  lost  my  father  and  husband  at  Wagram  ! " 
shouted  another. 

"  I  was  made  a  cripple  when  I  was  twenty ! " 
called  out  a  man  with  a  wooden  leg. 

"  And  the  horrible  taxes  !  "  yelled  another.  "  Six 
sous  for  a  pot  of  wine  ;  and  all  for  the  sake  of  the 
butchery  he  called  '  his  wars.'  Death  to  the  tyrant ! 
Death !  " 

Pauline  had  taken  a  little  house  and  was  waiting  to 
meet  him,  but  when  she  beheld  the  Austrian  uniform 
she  started  back  in  the  midst  of  the  tears  and  words 
of  affection  with  which  she  met  him,  exclaiming, 
"  What  is  that  uniform  ?  " 

"  Paulette,  would  you  wish  me  to  be  murdered  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment.  "  I  cannot 
embrace  you  in  that  dress,"  she  said.  "Oh,  Napoleon! 
what  have  you  done  ?  " 

He  left  the  room,  and  when  he  came  back  in  the 
uniform  of  the  Old  Guard  she  threw  herself  into 
his  arms. 


i8i4-i8i6]  AT   X.irOI.EOXS   COrh'T  41.:; 

Outside  a  crowd  had  collected,  and  to  the  alarm  of 
his  escort,  he  insisted  on  \valkin<j  about  amongst 
them. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  before  a  man  with  a  deep 
scar.     "  Are  you  not  Jacques  Dumont  ?  " 

"  Oui,  monseigneur!  Oui,  mon  general!  Oui, 
Sire!" 

"You  served  with  me  in  Egypt?" 

"  Yes,  oh  yes,  Sire  I  " 

"  You  were  wounded — but  it  was  long  ago,  I 
think  ? " 

"  At  the  battle  of  Trclia,  Sire,  with  the  brave 
General  Suchet,  in  my  leg,  and  I  could  serve  no 
longer.  But  now  when  I  hear  the  drums  beat  I  feel 
like  a  deserter  not  to  go.  I  would  follow  }-our 
Majesty  again  wherever  you  chose."  And  he  shed 
tears,  repeating,  "  My  name  !  my  name — after  fifteen 
years  !  " 

Napoleon  spoke  to  some  others,  and  suddenly 
exclaiming,  "Marshal  Massena  commands  at  Toulon. 
I  should  like  to  shake  hands  with  him  before  I  go 
away,  perhaps  for  ever." 

"  Will  you  .send  a  letter,  Sire?  " 

"  I  will  take  it  I  And  I !"  cried  about  two  hundred 
voices  with  eager  enthusiasm. 

As  Laura  was  sitting  alone  at  work  one  morning, 
one  of  her  valets-de-cJiaiiibre  came  in  and  said  some 
one  wanted  to  see  her.  He  did  not  know  who  it  was,  as 
he  had  only  just  come  from  Burgundy,  bringing  some 
of  Laura's  possessions  which  had  been  saved  from  the 
enemy.  He  had  assured  the  gentleman  that  Madame 
did  not  receive  at  that  hour,  but  it  was  no  use. 

"  Is  it  M.  Czernicheff?" 


4i''>  A    LEADER    OF   SOCIETY  [1814-1816 

"  No,  Madame,  I  know  M.  CzernichefT,  it  is  not 
him." 

"  Show  the  gentleman  in,"  said  she  and  looking 
up,  she  started  to  her  feet,  upsetting  all  her  things, 
as  the  Emperor  Alexander  walked  in  laughing 
heartily, 

"  Why  you  are  extraordinary  in  Paris,"  he  said. 
"  Did  the  Emperor  Napoleon  never  come  and  see  you 
in  this  way  without  ceremony  ?  " 

Laura  was  just  going  to  say  "  no,"  when  she 
remembered  his  visit  to  Junot  in  that  very  room,  on 
one  occasion  when  he  had  been  suffering  from  an 
illness  brought  on  by  some  disagreement  between 
them.  She  told  the  Emperor  Alexander  about  it,  and 
he  led  her  to  speak  of  Junot  and  of  the  treatment  he 
had  received  from  Napoleon,  asking  her  many 
questions  respecting  different  persons  she  had  known, 
especially  Bernadotte,  now  Prince  Royal  of  Sweden, 
where  his  wife  was  not  very  happy,  finding  the  climate 
and  court  alike  cold  and  dull  after  France.  He  stayed 
an  hour  and  a  half,  and  before  going  assured  her  that 
he  had  spoken  to  the  King  of  Prussia,  who  had 
promised  that  the  estate  of  Achen  and  all  the  arrears 
should  be  given  her. 

The  next  day  M.  von  Hardenberg,  was  announced  : 
a  stiff,  dried-up  personage  who  brought  her  the  deeds 
of  investiture  of  that  property,  but  to  her  utter  con- 
sternation she  found  that  it  was  only  to  be  granted 
on  condition  that  her  two  sons  should  be  naturalised 
Prussians,  which  she  refused  with  a  transport  of 
indignation. 

She  wrote  to  the  Plmperor  Alexander,  who  came 
to    sec    her    next    day,    extremely    vexed    and    dis- 


i8i4-i8i()]  .17"   XAI'OLEOXS   COf'RT  417 

appointed;  but  there  was  notliitiLi  more  to  be  done — 
the  fortune  was  lost. 

There  was  now  no  hope  but  in  the  Kin^^,  and 
Albert  and  their  uncles  all  urged  Laura  to  apply  to 
him  for  assistance. 

She  was  to  be  presented  with  the  rest  of  the  court, 
and  simplicity  in  dress  was  strictly  enjoined ;  Laura 
found  that  none  of  the  magnificent  toilettes  she  had 
worn  at  the  court  of  Napoleon  would  be  admissible. 
She  looked  at  her  tiara  and  rivieres  of  diamonds,  and 
pronounced  them  impossible;  she  tried  on  iipanere  of 
emeralds  and  smaller  diamonds,  which  was  in  the 
days  of  the  Empire  called  a  parure  dii  matin — even 
that  was  too  brilliant.  Her  dresses  and  mantles, 
heavy  with  gold  and  silver  embroidery,  were  not  to  be 
thought  of  She  ordered  a  dress  of  white  satin  and 
white  crepe  and  wore  in  her  hair  a  parure  of  car- 
buncles with  which  she  thought  no  fault  could  be 
found. 

In  the  place  where  she  had  always  been  accustomed 
to  see  Josephine  and  then  Marie-Louise,  stood  the 
Duchesse  d'Angouleme,  Dauphine  of  France.  She 
bowed  to  each  as  they  curtseyed  to  her,  but  when 
Laura  came  up  she  stopped  her,  saying,  with  a  gentle 
manner  and  voice — 

"  You  are  Madame  Junot  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Madame." 

"  You  suffered  very  much  in  your  last  Spanish 
journey.     Did  }'ou   save  your  son  ? " 

Laura  was  on  the  point  of  saying  that  the  boy 
should  be  brought  up  to  serve  and  defend  her,  but 
hesitated  to  do  so,  and  the  Princess  continued,  in  a 
tone  of  kindly  interest — 


4i8  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1S14-1816 

"  You  do  not  feel  any  ill-effects  from  these  hard- 
ships still  ?  " 

"  It  is  three  years  ago  now,  Madame." 

"  Ah,  yes,  that  is  true,"  said  the  Dauphine  reflecting. 
She  bowed  and  Laura  passed  on  with  a  thrill  of 
mingled  affection  and  reverence  for  the  woman  who 
seemed  to  her  at  once  a  princess,  a  saint,  and  a 
martyr — a  feeling  far  different  from  her  liking  and 
friendship  for  the  kind-hearted,  frivolous  Josephine,  or 
her  indifference  to  the  cold,  unsympathetic  Marie 
Louise. 

The  Court  was  presented  en  masse  to  the  King, 
whom  many  of  them,  including  Laura,  scarcely  saw  ; 
but,  following  the  urgent  advice  of  her  brother  and 
uncles,  she  asked  for  an  audience,  which  was  granted 
for  the  next  day  between  two  and  three  o'clock. 

With  mingled  feelings  of  melancholy  and  em- 
barrassment Laura  drove  to  the  Tuileries,  so  familiar 
and  yet  so  strange  to  her.  She  dreaded  the  interview 
in  which  she  must  ask  for  the  remnant  of  their 
fortune  and  throw  herself  and  her  children  upon  the 
generosity  of  Louis  XVIII.  ;  she  considered  with 
perplexity  how  she  should  call  the  late  Emperor 
when  she  spoke  of  him,  hesitating  between  "  the 
Emperor,"  which  would  perhaps  be  ill-bred,  and 
"  General  Buonaparte,"  which  would,  she  thought,  be 
cowardly. 

She  had  also  heard  a  rumour  that  the  King  had 
promised  the  faiiboiirg  St.  Germain  not  to  allow  the 
"  noblesse  vilainel'  i.e.,  of  the  Empire,  to  sit  down  in 
his  presence. 

When  she  entered  the  room  in  which  .she  had  so 
often  found  Napoleon,  Louis  XVIII.  was  seated  in  an 


iSi4-i«i6]  AT   XAI'OI.EONS   COURT  419 

armchair,  from  which  he  raised  himself  slowly, 
excusing  himself  on  account  of  the  gout  from  which 
he  was  suffering,  and  making  her  sit  in  another  arm- 
chair by  his  side. 

Remarking  that  he  was  perhaps  overtired,  Laura 
suggested  that  joy  and  happiness  seldom  did  any 
one  real  harm. 

"Joy  and  happiness?  Those  are  two  things  to 
which  I  shall  have  to  get  accustomed  ;  they  have 
been  very  strange  to  me  since  I  left  France.  They 
say  }'ou  are  a  good  Frenchwoman,  Madame  la 
Duchesse,  so  }-ou  will  understand  me.  You  are  rather 
like  your  mother — she  was  very  beautiful  when  I  last 
saw  her." 

"Your  Majesty  knew  my  mother?"  And  she 
drew  nearer  to  him. 

"  How  should  I  not  liave  known  any  one  so  lovely  ? 
especially  when  she  was  a  Comnenus  and  her 
brothers  were  at  court.  Is  she  still  at  Paris?  Oh! 
I  beg  your  pardon,  I  beg  your  pardon  a  thousand 
times ! "  he  added,  as  Laura's  look  and  silence  told 
him  the  truth.  Then,  changing  the  conversation,  he 
said — 

"  You  are  not  used  to  find  such  an  invalid  as  I  am 
here?"  He  questioned  her  about  Junot  with  much 
kindness  and  sympathy,  took  notes,  and  promised  to 
grant  her  petition,  observing,  with  a  graceful  courtesy 
which  touched  her — 

"  The  Due  d'Abrantes  did  not  die  in  my  service, 
but  such  a  man  is  an  honour  to  his  country,  and  it  is 
for  her  to  pay  the  debt.     I  will  attend  to  it." 

A  sum  which  had  escaped  the  Prussians  and  was 
still  in  the  imperial  treasury,  bringing  her  an  income 


420  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [i«i5-i8i6 

of  10,000  francs,  was  restored  to  her,  and  a  pension 
promised. 

The  King  also  granted  the  petition  she  made  for 
her  brother,  and  promised  to  buy  her  great  /w/el  in 
the  autumn. 

Before  the  alHes  left  Paris  Laura  gave  a  large 
dinner-party  in  honour  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

"  Whom  would  you  like  to  meet  ?  "  she  asked  him. 

"Whoever  you  like — Metternich — he  is  pleasant 
and  amusing." 

"  But  Laura  could  by  no  means  invite  both 
Wellington  and  Metternich.  Which,  in  that  case, 
would  take  precedence  of  the  other  ?  She  thought 
of  the  Cardinal  Maury,  who,  in  spite  of  his  deplorable 
principles  and  character,  was  rather  a  friend  of  hers, 
but  a  cardinal  took  precedence  over  every  one  else. 
In  her  perplexity  she  explained  the  state  of  things 
to  Prince  Metternich,  who  promised  to  come  after 
dinner,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  two  Princes 
von  Lichtenstein,  those  invited  to  dine  were  chiefly 
French  and  P2nglish. 

No  one  who  was  present  on  that  evening,  seeing 
the  splendour  of  the  house,  the  masses  of  flowers 
everywhere,  the  perfection  of  the  dinner  and  of  the 
music  which  followed  it,  the  magnificent  toilettes,  and 
the  lavish  profusion  which  seemed  to  pervade  every 
arrangement,  would  have  supposed  the  hostess  to  be 
a  ruined  person  with  young  children  and  old  uncles 
depending  upon  her,  and  nothing  to  rely  on  but  the 
generosity  of  the  King. 

The  entertainment  was  brilliant  and  successful 
enough,  the  only  cont re-temps  being  caused  by  a 
French   General,  who  was  so  anxious  to  insult  the 


I8I4-IHI6] 


AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT 


421 


Duke  of  Wellington  that,  instead  of  simpl\'  declining 
to  meet  him,  he  tried  to  assert  his  dignity  b\'  arriving 
very  late,  in   a  morning  coat  and  trousers  and  dirtv 


shoes — a  proceeding  which  made  Wellington  laugh, 
and  only  annoyed  his  hostess,  against  whom  he  had 
no  spite  whatever. 


422  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1814-1816 

The  allies  departed — to  the  festivities  in  London, 
and  then  the  Congress  in  Vienna,  whence  Laura  heard 
often  from  Prince  Metternich. 

She  sold  her  splendid  //ote/  and  moved  into  a 
smaller  one  with  her  famil}',  still  sharing  in  all  the 
stir  and  excitement,  social  and  political,  that  went  on 
around  her. 

The  summer  and  winter  passed  away  and  March 
began  :  it  was  almost  a  year  since  the  fall  of  the 
Empire,  when  suddenly  came  the  news  that  Buona- 
parte was  again  in  France. 

It  was  like  a  thunderbolt  in  the  midst  of  a  clear, 
calm  day.  Received  with  transports  of  joy  in  the 
provinces,  his  journey  from  Golfe-Juan  to  Paris  was 
a  continued  triumph,  and  he  entered  the  Tuileries  a 
few  hours  after  the  flight  of  the  King  and  royal  family 
on  March  20,  181  5. 

But  at  Paris  he  did  not  find  the  enthusiasm  he  had 
met  with  in  the  country.  An  immense  crowd  had 
gathered  before  the  Tuileries,  but  he  missed  many  of 
the  faces  he  looked  for,  and  he  was  received  almost 
in  silence. 

The  theatres  were  all  closed,  and  an  atmosphere  of 
gloom  and  depression  seemed  to  pervade  the  city. 
Some  members  of  his  family  met  him,  amongst 
others  Lucien,  who,  forgetting  his  brother's  past 
oppression  and  injuries,  hastened  to  his  side  in  the 
hour  of  need. 

During  the  "  Hundred  days  "  of  the  second  reign 
of  Napoleon  Laura  remained  in  strict  retirement, 
although  it  was  intimated  to  her  that  the  Emperor 
wished  to  see  her  at  his  court  again.  Ikit  the  same 
reasons  which  had  before  separated  iier  entirely  from 


iSi4-i«i6]  AT  XAPOr.EON'S  COURT  42^ 

the  man  to  whom  she  attributed  her  husband's  death 
still  existed  ;  and  besides  she  now  considered  herself 
bound  by  gratitude  to  Louis  XVIII.,  who,  as  she 
said,  had  given  her  the  help  and  sympathy  denied  b\- 
Napoleon. 

Few  persons  of  any  weight  felt  much  confidence  in 
the  duration  of  the  power  of  Buonaparte  ;  all  that 
seemed  to  be  certain  was  that  the  fighting,  of  which 
the  greater  part  of  the  nation  were  heartily  weary, 
would  begin  again.  Not  since  the  horrible  times  of 
the  Terror,  with  which  her  early  years  had  been  so 
deeply  impressed,  had  Paris  presented  so  melancholy 
a  spectacle  as  during  these  three  months. 

Again  bands  of  ruffians  paraded  the  streets  shout- 
ing, "  Five  la  Rcpubliquel  "  "  Death  to  the  Royalists  !  " 
Again  revolutionary  airs  of  sinister  associations  were 
played  in  the  theatres  and  fierce,  bloodthirsty  songs 
sung  on  the  boulevards. 

In  anxious  fear  people  waited  for  the  issue  of 
events.  It  was  evident  that  the  crisis  must  soon 
come.  Napoleon  had  not  a  single  ally,  and  all 
Europe  was  in  league  against  him. 

The  energy  of  former  days  seemed  to  have  deserted 
him,  and  he  lingered  on  in  Paris  when  his  most  faith- 
ful friends  were  urging  him  to  set  off  to  meet  the 
enem}'.  It  was  not  till  the  beginning  of  June  that 
he  left  Paris,  and  shortl)'  after  came  the  news  of 
Waterloo.  Napoleon  returned  to  Paris,  shut  himself 
up  in  the  F^lysee-Bourbon  and  there  signed  his  final 
abdication.  Again  Paris  was  filled  with  the  allied 
troops,  and  Louis  XVIII.  returned  to  the  Tuileries. 

The  /lo/e/  in  which  Laura  now  lived  with  her 
family   was  in   the   rue   Saint- L(irj<iir.     She  was  still 


424  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1814-1816 

surrounded  by  a  large  circle  of  friends,  and  went 
occasionally  to  court,  though  .not  as  intimately 
as  in  the  days  of  the  Empire.  But  wherever  she 
lived  all  the  celebrities  of  the  day  were  to  be  found 
in  her  salon,  which  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  in 
Paris. 

There  was  a  famous  Bible  of  the  thirteenth 
century  in  twelve  magnificently  illuminated  volumes, 
which  Junot,  when  Napoleon  ordered  him  to  seize 
all  the  Portuguese  art  treasures,  brought  with  the 
rest  of  the  booty  to  Paris.  Being  very  fond  of  books 
and  artistic  works,  Junot  asked  the  Emperor  to 
give  him  this  Bible,  which  he  did. 

When  Laura,  after  her  husband's  death,  found 
herself  in  want  of  money,  she  wrote  to  Napoleon 
at  Dresden  asking  him  to  buy  the  Bible  for  the 
Bibliotheque  Royale.  He  agreed  to  do  so,  but  before 
the  matter  was  arranged  came  the  fall  of  the  Empire 
and  the  restoration,  which  put  a  stop  to  the 
transaction. 

But  with  the  victory  of  the  allies  of  course  came 
the  restoration  of  their  property  carried  off  by  the 
French.  Statues,  pictures,  bronzes,  gems,  art  treasures 
of  every  description,  were  sent  back  to  their  lawful 
owners,  and  amongst  other  things  the  King  of 
Portugal  wrote  for  his    Bible. 

One  day  whilst  the  allies  were  in  Paris  the 
Duchesse  d'Abrantes  received  an  order  to  give  it 
up,  which  she  indignantly  complained  might  have 
been  sent  to  a  maid  who  had  stolen  her  mistress's 
shawl. 

She  contended  that  the  liiblc  was  hers,  and  must 
be  hers,  as  the  Emperor  had  given  it  to  her  husband 


i8i4-i8i6]  AT   XAf'OLEOX'S   COURT  425 

and  was  going  to  bu)'  it  back  from  herself,  apparently 
not  considering  whether  Xajioleon  had  any  right 
to  give  her  the  King  of  Portugal's  l^ible.  She 
appealed  to  the  King,  who  arranged  the  affair  b)' 
ordering  her  to  be  paid  a  considerable  sum  for  the 
Bible,  though  not  the  140,000  francs  at  which  it 
had    been    valued,    and    sending  it  back  to  Lisbon. 

Amongst  the  relations  for  whom  Laura  had  great 
affection  was  her  nephew,  Adolphe  dc  Geouffre,  son 
of  her  sister  Cccile,  and  with  his  father  also  she 
had  alwa)'s  remained  upon  verv  friendly  and  intimate 
terms. 

One  da)'  in  the  spring  of  18 16  her  brother-in-law 
came  in  with  a  disturbed  air,  sa)'ing  that  he 
wanted  to  speak  to  her  upon  a  matter  of  importance. 

He  told  her  that  he  had  just  come  to  Paris,  and 
that  in  the  hotel  where  he  was  staying  he  had  made 
the  acquaintance  of  a  young  Corsican,  who  was 
also  staying  there  with  his  sister  and  who  had  called 
upon  him,  sa}-ing  that  his  name  was  Stephanopoli, 
that  he  was  related  to  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes, 
to  whom  he  brought  letters  of  introduction  from 
other  relations  in  Corsica,  and  that  he  had  come 
to  see  him,  Geouffre,  knowing  that  he  was  connected 
with  the  family. 

This  seemed  natural  enough,  but  M.  de  Geouffre 
proceeded  to  inform  her  that,  although  neither 
Freemason  nor  Carbonaro  himself,  he  had  been  at 
one  of  their  meetings,  at  which  he  had  met  this 
young  Stephanopoli,  from  whom  he  had  discovered 
that  there  were  persons  in  Corsica  who  believed 
that  Laura  had  deserted  the  cause  of  Napoleon  and 
knew  that  she  had    refused    to   s:o  to  the  Tuileries 


426  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY  [1814-1S16 

during  the  Hundred  days  ;  that  for  this  they  owed 
her  a  grudge  ;  therefore,  knowing  the  fierceness 
of  the  Corsican  vendetta,  and  observing  that 
Stephanopoli  talked  wildly  and  wore  a  dagger, 
he  hastened  to  warn  her  of  what  he  felt  certain 
to  be  a  serious  danger. 

After  a  little  consideration  Laura  desired  him 
to  bring  Stephanopoli  to  see  her,  to  which  he 
strongly  objected  at  first,  but  afterwards  consented. 

Soon  after  he  had  left  her  Albert  returned  from 
Strasbourg,  and,  much  relieved  .at  his  appearance, 
she  told  him  what  had  happened,  and  found  that 
he  agreed  with  their  brother-in-law  that  the  situation 
was  alarming. 

The  next  day  Stephanopoli  was  presented  to  her, 
and  proved  to  be  a  dark,  handsome,  rather  wild- 
looking  man  of  about  twenty-seven.  He  looked 
at  her  in  silence  and  evident  astonishment,  and  then 
stammered  a  few  words  of  very  bad  French,  to  which 
she  replied  in  such  perfect  Italian  that  he  changed 
colour  and  exclaimed — 

"  What !  you  speak  Italian  like  that !  " 

"  Of  course  I  do  ;  for  a  very  simple  reason — I 
am   Italian.  " 

"  Your  heart  is  not,"  he  replied,  shaking  his  head. 
"  Our  brothers  are  persecuted,  Napoleon  is  at  St. 
Helena,  and  }'ou  go  to  see  the  Bourbons." 

"  I  go  because  they  are  necessary  for  the  welfare 
of  the  country,"  she  replied.  "  As  to  the  Emperor, 
I  had  reason  enough  to  complain  of  him." 

"Ah  !  "  cried  this  strange  guest,  grinding  his  teeth, 
"  how  can  any  one  have  cause  •  to  complain  of 
Napoleon  ?  " 


1814-1816]  AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  427 

Presently  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  portrait  of  Junot, 
and  he  inquired  if  that  were  the  Due  d'Abrantes. 

"  Ah,  he  was  a  brave  man,"  he  added,  looking 
earnestly  at  it;  and  Laura  then  related  to  him  the 
whole  history  of  the  treatment  her  husband  had 
received  from  Buonaparte,  to  which  Stephanopoli 
listened  with  the  deepest  attention,  shedding  tears  of 
sympathy  and  ending  by  saying — 

"  Well,  I  am  very  glad  I  have  seen  you  and  heard 
all  this,  for  otherwise "  and  he  stopped. 

Laura  invited  him  to  dine  and  bring  his  sister,  who 
proved  to  be  a  shy,  gentle  girl,  very  beautiful  and 
entirely  devoted  to  her  brother. 

Seeing  that  her  toilette  left  much  to  be  desired, 
Laura  had  her  hair  arranged  and  a  more  becoming 
dress  given  her,  by  which  her  appearance  was  so 
much  improved  that  her  brother's  delight  and 
gratitude  were  unbounded. 

From  that  time  his  affection  for  Laura  became 
as  vehement  as  his  hatred  had  been  ;  he  came  often 
to  see  her  with  his  sister  Stephanie,  of  whom  she 
grew  very  fond.  She  told  Laura  of  her  mono- 
tonous life  at  the  convent  in  Padua,  where  she  was 
educated,  and  of  her  passionate  love  for  her  brother, 
who  was  all  she  had  in  the  world  and  loved  her 
devotedly.  He  v/as  like  a  half-savage,  this  young 
Stephanopoli,  fierce  and  hast\'  but  affectionate  and 
impressionable ;  the  sound  of  music  would  bring 
tears  to  his  eyes. 

One  evening,  after  Stephanopoli  and  his  sister  had 
been  dining  with  Laura,  they  were  all  sitting  in  a 
room  which  opened  into  the  garden.  Albert  and 
Stephanopoli    went  through    the   glass  doors  on    to 


428  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1814-1816 

the  terrace  outside  and  stood  leaning  upon  the 
balustrade  listening  to  Laura,  who  was  playing 
dreamil}^  upon  the  piano.  The  air  was  heavy  with 
the  scent  of  lilacs,  and  for  some  time  neither  of  them 
spoke,  but  Stephanie  whispered  to  Laura,  "  Look  at 
my  brother  ;  he  is  crying." 

Albert  just  then  spoke  to  him  in  a  low  voice, 
and  they  both  turned  away  and  disappeared  amongst 
the  shady  walks  of  the  garden.  It  was  some  time 
before  they  returned,  and  after  Stephanopoli  and 
his  sister  had  gone  Albert  told  Laura  with  intense 
relief  that  he  had  at  last  succeeded  in  getting 
Stephanopoli  to  promise  him  to  leave  Paris  im- 
mediately. His  departure  would  avert  a  great 
danger,  for  it  was  now  certain  that  he  had  come  to 
Paris  with  the  intention  of  murdering  not  only  Laura, 
but  the  King.  Albert  had  gained  sufficient  influence 
over  him  to  persuade  him  to  give  up  his  purpose, 
and  was  anxious  to  induce  him  to  go  to  America. 
He  had  offered  him  letters  to  Joseph  Buonaparte,  but 
it  was  of  no  use,  he  would  only  go  to  Germany. 

Albert  gave  him  letters  to  some  one  there,  and 
Laura  took  charge  of  his  sister  for  a  time.  At  first 
he  sent  them  news  of  his  movements,  but  on  a  sudden 
all  communication  ceased.  After  five  weeks  had 
passed  in  silence  Albert  caused  inquiries  to  be  made, 
which  resulted  in  the  discovery  that  he  had  been 
murdered  in  a  lonely  inn  near  Ratisbon. 

Nothing  had  been  stolen  from  him  and  his  assas- 
sination had  evidently  been  the  work  of  a  secret 
society.  He  had  been  warned  b}'  Monsieur  de  Geouffi-e 
through  a  friend,  who  said  that  he  was  also  a  friend 
of  Metternich,  that  his  life  was  in  danger,  and  he  had 


1X14-1H16]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COrRT  429 

apparently  been  tracked  from  Paris  b\-  tlie  assassins. 
Two  men  who  seemed  to  be  strant^ers  to  him  were 
found  to  ha\'e  stopped  with  him  at  the  inn  the  night 
of  tlie  murder,  and  his  body  was  f(jund  with  two 
dagger  thrusts  in  the  morning. 

His  sister  returned  to  Tadua,  and  afterwards  took 
the  veil  in  the  convent  of  the  Capucines,  near  the 
Porta  Pia,  where  Laura  saw  her  on  her  next  visit  to 
Rome. 


CHAPTER   XXV 
1817-1821-1838 

IN  1 8 17  Laura  had  a  serious  illness,  after  which 
she  passed  some  weeks  in  Burgundy,  where  she 
recovered  her  strength  and  then  returned  to  Paris. 
The  winter  and  spring  were  very  gay,  on  account 
of  the  marriage  of  the  Due  de  Berry  with  the 
Princess  Caroline  of  Naples. 

The  three  friends  who  had  been  the  chosen 
companions  of  her  girlhood  and  whose  affection  had 
continued  unchanged  through  all  these  eventful  years 
— Laura  de  Caseaux,  now  Madame  de  Castarede, 
Melanie  de  Perigord,  and  Madame  Juste  de  Noailles, 
Duchesse  de  Poix — were  living  in  Paris  and  were 
constantly  in  her  society,  which  consisted  of  many 
of  her  early  friends  of  royalist  opinions,  besides  a 
number  of  those  of  later  years  and  of  different 
nationalities.  With  her  children,  her  brother,  and 
her  uncles  her  family  was  sufficiently  numerous 
and  her  fortune  insufficient,  especially  for  one 
of  her  tastes  and  habits.  In  181 8  she  resolved 
to  spend  some  time  in  Italy,  where  her  journey  was 
not  entirely  one  of  pleasure  ;  for  she  hoped  by  means 
of  influential  friends  in   Rome  to  be  able  to  recover 

4.W 


i,Si7-i.S2i-i838]       J    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  431 

some  more  of  the  property  she  had  lost  through  the 
death  of  her  husband,  and  the  pohtical  changes  b)- 
which  it  had  been  followed. 

She  had  just  refused  to  marry  a  Sicilian  prince  of 
large  fortune  but  absurd  appearance  and  manners  who 
was  very  much  recommended  by  some  of  her  friends, 
but  she  preferred  her  poverty  and  freedom  to  such 
a  marriage  as  this,  and  set  off  in  excellent  spirits 
early  in  June,  accompanied  on!)-  by  her  secretary, 
who  had  been  Junot's,  her  maid  and  a  valet. 

As  she  drove  aloni;  the  shores  of  the  Lake  of 
Geneva,  even  the  recollection  of  what  she  had  suffered 
there  five  years  ago  was  not  enough  to  prevent  her  en- 
joyment of  those  enchanting  scenes.  She  crossed  the 
Simplon  in  perfect  weather,  and  travelled  from  Milan 
to  Florence,  where  she  put  up  at  the  well-known 
Hotel  Schneider,  and  an  hour  afterwards  Prince 
Metternich  arrived  to  see  her. 

The  Grand-duke  Ferdinand  was  now  re-established, 
and  society  was  very  pleasant  in  that  charming  city 
of  flowers  and  sunshine,  which  was  far  more  beautiful 
in  those  days  than  now.  The  vandalism  of  the  modern 
Italians,  their  rage  for  cutting  down  trees  and  con- 
verting the  whole  country  into  a  desert  or  a  kitchen- 
garden,  their  destruction  of  ancient  walls,  towers,  and 
streets,  had  not  then  been  wreaked  upon  so  man\-  of 
what  were  amongst  the  loveliest  scenes  in  the  world, 
and  as  Laura  sat  with  Prince  Metternich  on  a 
balcony  looking  upon  the  Arno  they  contrasted  the 
peace  and  beauty  of  the  scene  before  them  with 
the  storms  and  changes  they  had  seen  together,  and 
wondered  how  long  this  tranquillity  would  last. 

Presently  came  an  enormous  bouquet  from  Prince 


432  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY       [i«i7-i82i-i838 

Camillo  Borghese,  with  a  note  to  inquire  when  the 
Duchess  could  receive  him,  and  he  shortly  appeared 
and  invited  her  to  drive  in  the  Cascine. 

That  lovely  park  was  thronged  with  carriages,  and 
as  they  drove  up  and  down  they  met  the  Grand- 
duke  with  his  two  nieces,  Leopoldine,  soon  after 
Empress  of  Brazil,  and  Marie-Louise,  whom  Laura 
had  not  seen  since  she  reigned  at  the  Tuileries. 

As  she  bowed  to  Laura  a  flood  of  recollections 
rushed  into  her  mind  and  made  her  start.  For  Marie- 
Louise  personally  she  had  never  felt  either  liking  or 
respect,  but  she  thought  she  ought  perhaps  to  go  and 
see  her  before  leaving  Florence,  and  remarked  that 
evening  before  various  people  who  had  come  to  tea 
in  her  salon,  that  she  must  do  so.  Prince  Metternich, 
who  was  present,  made  no  observation  at  the  time, 
but  sent  her  a  note  early  next  morning  advising  her 
not.  She  followed  his  counsel,  and  having  been 
present  at  the  departure  of  the  Archduchess 
Leopoldine  for  Brazil,  she  took  leave  of  her  friends 
in  Florence  and  pursued  her  journey  to  Rome. 

The  country  was  then  exceedingly  unsafe  on 
account  of  the  brigands  by  which  it  was  infested  ; 
but  having,  of  course,  an  escort,  and  never  travelling 
after  dark,  Laura  arrived  safely  at  the  last  post  from 
Rome,  a  lonely  inn  called  La  Storta.  As  it  was 
seven  o'clock,  it  was  impossible  to  go  on  that  night, 
so  she  resigned  herself  to  sleep  there,  though  the 
solitude  of  the  place  frightened  her,  and  she  asked 
the  landlord,  who  served  her  at  supper,  whether  there 
was  not  a  risk  of  the  inn  being  attacked  in  the  night. 
He  assured  her  that  she  was  quite  safe  in  his  house, 
pointing  out  that  there  was  a  post  of  carabinieri  close 


• 


1817-1821-1838]       AT  NAPOLEONS   COriiT  433 

by  and  a  'j^reat  bell  to  rin<^  in  case  of  alarm,  and 
adding  what  reassured  her  most — that  of  course  any 
such  event  would  ruin  his  inn,  for  nobody  would  ever 
sleep  there  again,  and  implying  that  he  averted  such 
a  misfortune  by  paying  blackmail  to  the  brigands. 

As  he  waited  upon  her  the  host  entertained  her 
with  stories  of  their  crimes  and  depredations  which 
were  by  no  means  reassuring,  and  must  have 
reminded  Laura  of  her  Spanish  journeys  in  a  wilder 
and  more  dangerous  countr\-,  but  generally  under 
the  powerful  protection  of  her  husband. 

One  of  the  most  terrible  of  these  histories  was 
that  of  an  English  family  who  were  wintering  in 
Rome,  and  whose  eldest  daughter  had  just  married 
a  Mr.  Bischopp. 

The  young  people  had  set  their  hearts  upon  going 
to  Terni,  the  neighbourhood  of  which  was  particularly 
dangerous.  They  were  warned  by  their  friends 
against  going  there  without  an  escort,  but  persisted 
in  their  rash  folly,  and  set  off  unaccompanied.  Mrs. 
Bischopp  tried  to  persuade  her  mother  and  sisters  to 
go  too,  but  they  refused  (her  father  was  dead). 

They  slept  at  the  inn,  got  up  early  and  went  to 
see  the  waterfall,  near  which  Mr.  Bischopp  sat  down 
to  sketch,  whilst  Mrs.  Bischopp  allowed  herself  to  be 
persuaded  by  the  guide  to  go  up  to  a  higher  point 
at  some  little  distance  to  see  the  view. 

Her  husband  sat  for  some  time  absorbed  in  his 
work,  until  he  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  shrieks 
and  cries  mingling  with  the  noise  of  the  water,  and, 
looking  up,  saw  his  wife  being  carried  up  the  rocks 
by  two  men.  He  rushed  after  them,  but  slipped 
upon  the  stones  and  fell.     When  he  got  up  the  men 

29 


434  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY      [1817-1821-1838 

with  his  wife  had  disappeared,  and  the  guide  was 
coming  towards  him  battered  and  hurt. 

He  appHed  to  the  podcsta  of  the  place,  who  told 
him  that  such  occurrences  vv^ere  frequent,  and  the  only 
thing  to  do  was  to  wait  patiently  until  some  commu- 
nication was  made  ;  but  scouted  his  proposal  to 
arrest  the  messenger,  declaring  that  to  do  so  would 
be  fatal. 

During  the  day  a  letter  was  brought  saying  that 
the  captive  would  not  be  harmed,  and  would  be 
restored  if  before  eight  days  30,000  francs  were  put 
upon  a  certain  stone  indicated.  If  not,  her  husband 
would  never  see  her  again. 

The  unfortunate  man  hurried  to  Rome  to  obtain 
the  ransom.  There  was  consternation  all  over  the 
city.  The  Duchess  of  Devonshire  went  at  once  to 
Mrs.  Bischopp's  mother  and  offered  her  purse,  but  the 
husband  got  the  money  from  his  banker  (Torlonia), 
and  hastened  back  to  place  it  upon  the  stone  described. 
But  although  he  kept  it  there  for  four  days  and  went 
back  fifteen  times,  there  was  no  answer,  and  his  wife 
was  never  heard  of  again. 

Laura  was  soon  comfortably  established  in  Rome 
and  surrounded  with  friends  and  acquaintances. 
Several  of  the  Buonaparte  family  had  settled  there, 
and  received  her  in  their  different  ways  with  much 
affection. 

Madame  Mere  lived  in  mournful  resignation  in  the 
great  Roman  palace,  where  her  chief  solace  was  in  the 
society  of  such  of  her  children  and  grandchildren  as 
she  could  gather  round  her.  Her  eldest  daughter, 
Elisa,  was  in  Germany,  and  she  never  forgave  Caroline 
for   her  desertion  of  Napoleon.     Some   of  her  sons 


1817-1H21-183S]       AT   XAI'OLEOS^  S   COUR'I  4^^ 

were  far  awa)-,  but  Jerome  and  the  IVincess  Catherine 
came  to  Rome  ;  Pauline,  the  only  one  of  her  family 
who  had  preserved  the  rank  she  was  the  first  to  attain, 
inhabited  the  hu<^e  pala/.zo  l^or^hese  ;  I.ucien  and  his 
family  had  returned  in  peace  to  the  scenes  and 
pursuits  in  which  they  delit^hted  ;  his  eldest  daughter, 
Charlotte,  was  the  wife  of  Prince  Gabrielli ;  and 
Cardinal  Fesch,  the  brother  of  Madame  Mere,  was 
constantly  with  his  sister,  who  found  the  greatest 
consolation  in  his  presence. 

Never  had  there  been  a  more  interesting  and 
intellectual  society  ;  and  Laura  entered  into  it  with 
enthusiasm.  Her  sa/on  was  at  once  the  resort  of  all 
the  political,  artistic,  and  literary  celebrities.  She 
became  very  fond  of  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  and 
found  intimate  friends  in  the  Austrian  and  Swedish 
ambassadors.  Canova,  then  in  the  height  of  his  fame, 
was  often  at  her  house.  He  had  not  long  since 
finished  his  famous  statue  of  the  Princess  Borghese, 
who  eagerl}'  asked  Laura  if  she  had  seen  it  and 
thought  it  like  her,  adding  that  it  ought  to  be,  as  she 
stood  for  it. 

"  You  stood  for  it !  "  cried  Laura,  remembering  the 
scanty  drapery  of  the  figure. 

"  Yes,  I  did.  It  was  not  so  disagreeable  as  you 
think,  for  there  was  a  stove  in  the  room." 

Pauline  was  just  the  same  mixture  of  selfishness, 
good-nature  and  folly  as  ever,  and  would  earnestly 
inquire  of  her  numerous  visitors,  "  How  do  you  think 
I  look."  "  Am  I  looking  as  well  as  I  did  last  time 
you  saw  me  ?  " 

At  a  ball  given  by  Prince  Torlonia,  Laura  sprained 
her  ankle,  which  caused  her  to  be  laid   up  for   six 


436  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY      [1817-1821-1838 

weeks,  but  her  friends  came  constantly  to  see  her,  and 
her  sa/ori  was  just  as  pleasant  as  ever;  therefore  she 
was  never  dull. 

The  Pope  also  was  very  kind  to  her  ;  he  had  liked 
her  and  Junot  in  former  days.  When  she  was  well 
enough  he  sent  for  her  to  walk  with  him  in  the  lovely 
Pamfili  gardens.     She  paid  him  several  visits. 

To  Lucien  Buonaparte,  Pio  VII.  was  like  a  second 
father,  as  he  remarked  when  it  was  suggested  that  he 
should  settle  in  Austria  to  be  near  his  nephew,  the 
late  King  of  Rome,  now  Duke  of  Reichstadt. 

He  said  also  that  his  fortune  was  in  Italy,  which 
was  the  country  he  preferred,  and  that  his  own  family 
must  be  his  first  consideration.  Certainly  the  life 
they  led  was  an  ideally  delightful  one — a  Roman 
palace  in  winter  and  a  villa  at  Tusculum  in  summer, 
in  both  of  which  Lucien,  Prince  of  Canino,  and 
his  wife  entertained  brilliantly  and  hospitably  the 
most  distinguished  and  interesting  persons  of  all 
nations. 

In  this  enchanting  climate,  in  the  society  of  such 
men  as  Metternich  and  Brougham  and  Byron,  with  a 
magnificent  library,  and  surrounded  by  the  majestic 
ruins  of  ancient  Rome,  their  lives  were  like  those 
described  by  Horace.  Lucien  would  walk  in  the 
great  gallery  of  his  Roman  palace  conversing  with 
some  kindred  spirit,  or  spend  hours  in  superintending 
theexcavationsat  Tusculum,  or  join  in  an  out-of-doors 
/ete,  or  sit  immersed  in  his  books,  happy  and  con- 
tented in  the  congenial  life  from  which  no  dreams  of 
ambition  had  ever  tempted  him,  while  the  crowns  and 
sceptres  of  his  brothers  and  sisters  had  fallen  away, 
leaving  nothing  but  mediocre  men  and  women  mostly 


1817-1821-1838]       AT  NAPOLEON'S  COURT  437 

discontented  and  unhappy,  distinguished  only  for 
having  been  thrust  into  and  then  out  of  positi<jns  they 
were  unfit  to  fill. 

The  discovery  of  some  buried  treasure  was  one  of 
the  greatest  pleasures  of  the  life  at  La  Rufinclla, 
Lucien's  estate  at  Tusculum. 

One  of  the  farmers  on  his  property  at  Canino  found 
oneday  a  small  cave  containing  two  thousand  exquisite 
Etruscan  vases,  and  in  the  course  of  his  excavations 
at  Tusculum  Lucien  discovered  the  school  of  Cicero, 
to  his  intense  delight.  The  difficulties  and  restric- 
tions very  rightly  imposed  in  our  own  days  upon  the 
collectors  of  antiquities  in  Italy  did  not  exist  then, 
which  was  all  the  worse  for  the  country  and  all  the 
better  for  the  foreign  antiquarians,  collectors,  and 
travellers. 

Laura  was  exceedingly  interested  in  the  excava- 
tions, and  saw  that  of  the  column  of  Phocas  in  the 
Forum.  Numbers  of  exquisite  little  bronzes  and 
artistic  objects  were  dug  up  there,  of  which  she  brought 
back  a  basketful,  but  she  gave  most  of  them  away. 
One,  a  chariot  and  horses  in  a  perfect  state,  she  had 
mounted  on  giallo  antico  as  a  paperweight. 

The  great  drawback  to  this  enchanting  life  was  the 
continual  danger  from  brigands.  There  was  no  safety 
outside  the  walls  of  the  city.  One  of  the  most  terrible 
of  their  chiefs  had  been  the  son  of  an  old  shepherd 
and  his  wife,  named  Gasparone.  They  were  simple, 
pious,  respectable  people,  who  lived  not  far  from  the 
villa  of  Lucien  Buonaparte,  and  their  only  son,  remark- 
able for  his  extraordinary  strength,  height  and  beauty, 
was  supposed  to  be  equally  pious,  and  was  better 
educated.     He  carved    in   wood,   recited  Tasso,  and 


438  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY       [1817-1821-1838 

was  a  favourite  with  the  priest  of  the  village,  who  had 
taught  him  many  things. 

Young  Gasparone  was  deeply  in  love  with  a 
beautiful  contadina  who  lived  close  by.  This  girl 
was  a  great  favourite  with  the  daughters  of  Lucien, 
who  foolishly  dressed  her  up  in  costly  clothes  and 
jewels  to  try  the  effect  upon  her  beauty,  and  showed 
her  to  young  Gasparone,  in  whose  mind  this  imme- 
diately aroused  evil  and  covetous  desires  to  such  an 
extent  that  he  resolved  to  turn  brigand  in  order  to 
get  gold  and  jewels  for  Teresa. 

He  rose  early  in  the  morning,  left  the  cottage  where 
his  parents  were  still  sleeping,  and  went  to  a  wood 
near  Canino,  which  he  knew  to  be  the  resort  of  a  band 
who  were  the  terror  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  where 
he  met  their  captain,  a  ferocious  miscreant  called  Luigi, 
and  one  of  his  men.  He  joined  the  gang,  by  whom 
he  was  eagerly  welcomed,  and  received  with  so  much 
favour  as  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  Luigi. 

Resolved  to  gain  an  influence  with  the  men,  and 
aspiring  to  become  their  leader,  he  told  them  that 
before  the  next  morning  he  would  give  them  proofs 
that  he  had  broken  for  ever  with  an  honest  life. 

He  went  to  Viterbo,  sought  an  audience  of  the 
Vice-legate,  Cardinal  Lanti,  and  offered  to  betray 
Luigi  into  his  hands.  The  carabinieri  had  for  some 
time  been  on  the  track  of  this  band,  of  whom  they 
had  killed  several,  and  the  offer  was  at  once  accepted. 

Gasparone  proposed  to  take  a  carriage  with  four 
horses  and  six  carabinieri,  three  of  whom  should 
be  disguised  as  English  ladies  supposed  to  be 
travelling,  and  promised  so  to  arrange  that  Luigi 
should  fall   into  their  hands. 


1817-1821-1838]       AT  XAPOLEOX  S   COURT  439 

They  left  the  palace  of  the  Cardinal  at  ten  o'clock 
on  a  dark  ni^ht  and  drove  in  silence  for  some 
distance.  At  last  the  chief  of  the  carabinieri 
remarked  that  the  way  seemed  lonf(,  and  asked  where 
they  were  ijoin;^. 

"  Where  I  promised  U)  take  >'ou,"  re[jlied 
Gasparone  ;  "  we  are  gettinij    near." 

He  lighted  the  carriage  lamps,  the  sign  agreed 
upon  with  Luigi,  and  the  band  of  thirty  brigands 
rushed  upon  them.  The  carabinieri  cried, "  Treason  !  " 
and  were  at  once  seized  and  bound.  Gasparone 
himself  stabbed  every  one  of  them,  and  their  bodies 
being  thrown  into  the  carriage,  the  terrified  postilion, 
who  had  hidden  himself  in  a  ditch,  was  ordered  to 
drive  back  to  the  Cardinal. 

With  shouts  of  "  Vh'a  Gasparone ! "  he  was  made 
chief  of  the  band,  and  told  Luigi  to  serve  him  faith- 
fully or  forfeit  his  life. 

A  great  supper  in  the  robbers'  cave  followed  these 
murders.  The  next  day  a  peasant  of  his  own 
village  came  with  provisions  to  the  cave,  and  seeing 
Gasparone  giving  orders  there,  uttered  a  cry  of 
horror,  and  with  some  hesitation  said — 

"  Then  it  is  true  you  are  a  brigand  !  Your  old 
father  refuses  to  believe  it,  and  so  does  Teresa.  But 
do  you  know  what  effect  tiie  news  had  on  your 
mother?     She  fell  dead  without  a  word." 

Gasparone  turned  pale  and  gave  a  piercing  cry. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  other,  "without  even  a 
prayer  for  you.     So  you  have  killed  \'our  mother." 

This  terrible  news  for  some  time  seemed  to  increase 
the  ferocity  of  Gasparone,  who  became  enormously 
rich    and  the    terror   of  the  countr\-side.     But  after 


440  A    LEADER    OF   SOCIETY       [1817-1821-1838 

a  time  remorse  began  to  take  hold  upon  him  ;  he 
grew  less  cruel  and  appeared  to  have  a  kind  of 
horror  of  himself 

Hearing  of  this,  the  priest  of  his  village  who  had 
educated  him  resolved  to  see  him,  'with  Teresa, 
who  still  loved  him  in  spite  of  all  that  had  happened. 

When  word  was  brought  to  Gasparone  of  their 
intention,  he  agreed  to  meet  them  in  the  glade  of 
a  wood,  and  was  so  far  moved  by  their  entreaties,  the 
exhortations  of  the  priest,  and  the  promise  of  pardon 
from  the  Pope,  that  he  assured  them  he  would 
take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  leaving  the  brigands 
when  he  could  do  so  with  safety.  Shortly  after- 
wards he  returned  to  his  native  village,  married 
Teresa,  and  was  a  good  husband  and  father  ever 
afterwards,  leading  an  honest,  peaceable  life,  and, 
what  is  the  strangest  part  of  this  extraordinary  story, 
being  allowed  to  keep  his  ill-gotten  property. 

But  the  most  ferocious  and  terrible  brigand  in 
the  country  just  at  the  time  Laura  was  in 
Rome  was  Decesaris,  who  carried  his  crimes  and 
depredations  not  only  over  all  the  environs  but 
up  to  the  very  gates  of  the  city. 

Lucien  had  married  his  eldest  daughter  to  Prince 
Gabrielli,  another  to  an  English  peer,  and  a  third 
to  the  Count  de  Posset,  a  Swede,  and  was  now 
celebrating  the  betrothal  of  another  to  Prince 
Ecolani,  a  Bolognese.  The  Prince  and  several 
of  his  family  were  staying  at  the  Villa  Rufinella, 
near  Frascati. 

Laura  was  spending  the  early  autumn  in  the 
Palazzo  Cerani  at  Albano,  where  Madame  Mere  had 
also  a  villa.      All  that  enchanting  country,  P>ascati, 


i«i7-i«2i-i838]       AT  NAPOLEON'S   COURT  441 

Albano,  Genzano,  Ariccia,  Castcl  Gandolfo,  were, 
and  are  still,  the  resort  of  the  great  Roman  families, 
whose  huge,  ancient  villas,  buried  in  groves  of 
chestnut  and  ilex,  are  scattered  about  the  hills. 

The  villa  Rufinella,  which  now  belongs  to  I'rince 
Lancellotti,  is  supposed  to  occup\'  the  site  of  the 
villa  of  Cicero,  and  is  not  far  from  that  of  Lucullus. 

It  stands  upon  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  up  which  the 
path  leads  from  Frascati  to  the  convent  of  the 
Cappuccini  and  the  remains  of  Tusculum.  All 
around  that  delightful  abode  are  woods  and  shady 
walks,  and  a  little  higher  up  the  ruins  of  the  ancient 
Roman  town,  now  silent,  deserted,  and  grass-grown, 
were  at  that  time  alive  with  the  gang  of  busy, 
chattering  workmen,  engaged  in  carrying  out  the 
excavations  which  were  then  the  absorbing  interest 
of  Lucien  Buonaparte. 

One  evening,  a  short  time  before  sunset,  a 
Monsignore,  a  friend  of  the  family,  arrived  at  the  villa 
just  as  Lucien  and  two  or  three  others  came  down 
from  the  excavations.  On  his  expressmg  regret 
at  being  too  late,  Lucien  said,  "  Well,  go  up  by  this 
path,  and  see  them  ;  the  men  are  still  there,  and 
we  will  wait  dinner." 

The  old  priest  walked  on,  found  the  men  still  at 
work,  and  remained  some  time  talking  to  them, 
and  looking  at  the  excavations,  in  which  he  was 
so  much  interested  that  he  did  not  notice  that 
whilst  he  was  wandering  about,  absorbed  in  the 
contemplation  of  the  discoveries,  the  sun  had  set, 
the  workmen  had  all  gone,  and  he  was  alone. 
The  sudden  chill  which  comes  after  sunset  in 
Italy  recalled    him    from  the    past    to    the    present ; 


442  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY       [1817-1821-1838 

he  wrapped  his  cloak  round  him  and  turned 
to  go  back,  but  at  that  moment  a  hand  was 
laid  upon  his  shoulder,  and  a  tall,  handsome  man, 
of  suspicious  appearance,  desired  him  to  stop.  He 
was  dressed  in  the  manner  of  the  brigands — a 
coat  with  an  immense  number  of  buttons,  leather 
gaiters,  short  breeches,  a  hat  adorned  with  ribbons 
and  a  number  of  watches  worn  as  ornaments. 
Twelve  men  at  the  same  time  emerged  from 
a  thicket  close  by,  and  without  listening  to  his 
representations  that  he  was  only  a  poor  priest 
with   no  money    ordered    him    to  go  with  them. 

They  went  down  to  the  villa,  where,  tired  of  wait- 
ing, every  one  had  gone  to  dinner,  and  rang  the  bell. 

The  Comte  de  Chatillon,  one  of  the  guests,  left 
the  dining-room,  and  ran  down  the  staircase,  at 
the  foot  of  which  he  found  himself,  unarmed  and 
in  evening  dress,  standing  face  to  face  with  a  powerful 
man,  armed  with  a  carbine,  who,  exclaiming,  "  Ah  ! 
ecco  il  principe  !  "  ^  seized  hold  of  him.  Chatillon 
defended  himself,  knocked  the  brigand  down,  and 
called  for  help ;  but  the  rest  of  the  gang  came 
forward,  seized  the  two  or  three  servants  who  stood 
there,  and  gave  Chatillon  a  violent  blow  on  the 
forehead,  which  made  him  insensible.  No  one  heard 
what  was  going  on,  as  the  dining-room  was  at  some 
distance.  The  priest  managed  to  escape,  and  by 
the  time  the  bell  rang  to  summon  the  peasants  to 
help,  Decesaris,  and  his  band  had  made  good  their 
retreat  with  their  captive. 

When  Chatillon  recovered  consciousness  and  asked 
where  he  was,  Decesaris  replied — 

'  Ah  !  here  is  the  prince. 


1817-1821-1838]       AT  N.U'OI.FOXS   COURT  44;, 

"  With  brigands,  who  are  just  as  honest  as  any  one 
else,  Monseigneur,  and  if  your  highness  will  give  a 
good  ransom  you  can  sup  with  your  family  to- 
morrow night.  It  is  not  our  fault  that  \(ju  are  hurt. 
Why  did  you  resist  so  violently  ?  " 

"  You  take  me  for  somebody  else,"  said  Chatillon. 
"  I  am  not  '  highness  '  or  '  prince.'  " 

"You  are  the  Princeof  Canino,"  answered  the  bandit ; 
and  at  first  he  refused  to  believe  the  assertions  of 
Chatillon,  who  declared  he  was  a  poor  man  with 
nothing  to  pay.  At  daybreak  they  halted  in  a  wood, 
and  there,  by  showing  some  letters  in  his  pocket, 
Chatillon  convinced  the  brigand  chief  of  his  mistake. 
Decesaris,  who  had  intended  to  capture  the  Prince  of 
Canino,  swore  fearful  oaths  when  he  discovered  the 
truth ;  then,  declaring  Chatillon  to  be  a  brave  fellow,  he 
fixed  the  ransom  at  5,000  piastres  and  ordered  him  to 
write  a  letter,  dictated  by  himself,  replying  to  his  pro- 
testations that  he  had  no  money,  "  Say  no  more. 
You  must  find  it." 

Cardinal  Fesch  and  Pauline  Borghese  both  offered 
at  once  to  pay  the  ransom,  but  Lucien  insisted  on 
doing  so  himself  The  money  was  placed  at  the 
time  required  under  a  tree  in  the  forest,  and  the 
prisoner  released.  Whilst  he  was  waiting  for  its 
arrival  Decesaris  told  Chatillon  the  history  of  his  life. 
He  was  considered  to  be  the  most  cruel  and  remorse- 
less brigand  in  Italy,  He  had  at  one  time  a  love 
affair  with  a  young  girl  who  used  to  meet  him  in  the 
evenings  and  pass  hours  with  him  in  a  wood. 
Finding  that  this  liaison  caused  him  to  be  distrusted 
by  the  band,  he  murdered  her  in  order  to  regain 
their  confidence.     He  was  the  terror  of  the  Roman 


444  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY      [1817-1821-1838 

States,  a  price  of  1,000  piastres  was  put  on  his  head, 
and  he  never  passed  two  nights  in  the  same  place. 
As  time  went  on  he  became  more  and  more  ferocious, 
until  the  country  was  delivered  from  him  in  the  follow- 
ing manner  : — 

Passing  on  one  occasion  by  a  farm  where  as  a  lad 
he  used  to  get  fruit  and  milk,  he  went  in  and  was 
received  with  kindness  by  the  old  farmer  and  his 
wife,  who  knew  nothing  of  his  present  career.  The}' 
asked  him  to  sit  down  to  the  table,  where  they  were 
at  dinner  with  their  daughter,  a  young  girl  whom  he 
remembered  as  a  child  and  who  was  now  engaged  to 
be  married.  She  received  her  old  playfellow  in  a 
friendly  way,  but  unfortunately  for  her  Decesaris 
admired  her  beauty.  He  ordered  his  band  to  respect 
that  neighbourhood  and  representing  himself  to  be 
only  a  smuggler,  paid  several  visits  to  the  unsuspect- 
ing people.  One  day  when  the  farmer  had  gone  to 
Viterbo,  he  walked  into  the  house,  laid  his  belt  and 
cloak  upon  a  table,  and  announced  that  he  loved  the 
girl  and  should  stay  till  morning.  The  terrified 
mother,  who  now  knew  who  he  was,  he  thrust  out  of 
the  door  and  locked  it  as  she  fell  to  the  ground  half 
stunned. 

In  a  few  minutes,  however,  she  recovered  herself  and 
got  up,  hearing  the  cries  of  her  daughter.  "Now  God 
be  with  me  ! "  she  muttered  ;  and  looking  fearfully 
around  her,  she  hurried  to  a  wood  not  far  off  in  which 
she  knew  there  was  a  post  of  carabinieri. 

"  Shall  I  give  you  Decesaris  ?  "  she  asked  them. 

"  Santissima  madre  di  Dio  !  lo  credo  !  "  '  was  the 
answer. 

'  Holy  mother  of  God  !  I  should  think  so  ! 


i8i7-i«2i-i838]       AT  XAI'OLEO^^S  COURT  445 

She  led  them  to  the  farm,  where  all  was  silent,  hid 
them  in  a  clump  of  olives,  and  having;  a<^reed  upon  a 
signal,  lay  down  again  outside  the  door. 

Presently  it  opened,  and  Decesaris  came  out. 

"  Come,  let  us  make  friends  again,"  he  said,  "  pushing 
her  with  his  foot.  "  Perhaps  1  shall  not  make  such  a 
bad  son-in-law.  Come,  don't  s'ulk,  but  drink  some 
Montefiascone." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  and  as  she  rose  and  went 
into  the  house  with  him  .she  met  her  dau^jhter  cominfr 
down  the  wooden  stairs,  pale,  dishevelled,  and  tearful. 
She  embraced  her,  and  turning  to  Decesaris,  said — 

"  Well,  yes,  I  am  delighted  to  have  a  .son-in-law 
like  you.  To  the  success  of  our  wishes  ! "  and  she 
raised  her  glass — the  signal  agreed  upon. 

As  the  brigand  raised  his  he  fell  to  the  ground, 
shot  by  the  carabinieri  outside  the  window.  They 
took  his  head  to  Rome,  where  it  was  placed  over  the 
Porto  Pia,  and  the  band  was  easily  destroyed. 

When  Laura  returned  to  Rome  for  the  winter  the 
Comte  de  Chatillon  came  to  see  her  and  related  his 
adventures  with  the  brigands.  She  trembled  to  hear 
that  while  she  was  at  Albano  another  notorious 
brigand  named  Barlone  had  been  close  at  hand  with 
his  troop  ;  but  as  he  happened  to  be  ill  just  then  and 
was  being  nursed  in  a  monastery,  he  had  given  orders 
that  the  neighbourhood  was  to  be  left  unmolested. 
Laura,  always  inclined  to  be  imprudent,  had  thought 
of  nothing  but  the  enjoyment  of  that  delicious  climate 
and  scenery,  and  had  spent  her  time  in  rowing  upon 
the  lake,  taking  long  walks  in  the  woods  and  wander- 
ing about  wherever  she  chose.  It  is  difficult  to 
imagine  a  more  enchanting  place  in  which  to  spend 


44^1  A    LEADER   OF  SOCIETY      [1817-1821-1838 

the  summer  and  autumn  than  the  whole  tract  of 
countr)'  between  Frascati  and  Genzano,  of  which 
Castel  Gandolfo  and  Albano  are  perhaps  the  most 
beautiful.  Huge,  ancient  villas,  with  great,  cool  halls 
and  colonnades  lie  buried  in  half-wild,  neglected  gar- 
dens, where  statues  stand  partly  buried  in  grass  and 
flowers,  fountains  drip  softly  on  terraces  with  marble 
balustrades,  and  flights  of  steps  lead  down  into 
shady  walks  amongst  the  tall  Cyprus  and  spreading 
ilex  groves,  whose  deep  shadows  the  burning  heat 
of  the  Italian  summer  days  cannot  penetrate ;  roads 
shadowed  by  trees  wind  up  the  steep  hillsides 
past  woods  of  pine  and  chestnut  and  olive,  little  lakes 
sunk  deep  amongst  rocks  and  precipices,  vineyards  and 
strange,  lonely  villages;  ridges  of  hills  look  down  over  a 
sea  of  olives  upon  the  Campagna  stretching  away  to 
the  gleaming  silver  or  gold  of  the  Mediterranean.  In 
the  early  morning,  after  sunset,  in  the  brilliant  moon- 
light or  starlight  of  an  Italian  night,  such  scenes  are 
enchanting,  and  Laura  enjoyed  them  with  her  whole 
heart,  and  lingered  until  the  autumn  chills  of  November 
and  the  departure  of  the  other  inhabitants  of  the 
villas  around  drove  her    back  to   Rome. 

Before  the  end  of  her  stay  there  she  made  an 
excursion  to  Terni,  but  with  several  friends  and  a 
proper  escort.  One  of  those  whom  she  had  most 
rejoiced  to  meet  again,  and  from  whom  she  most 
grieved  to  part  when  the  time  came  for  her  to  leave 
Italy,  was  Madame  Mere,  whom  she  had  always 
loved  as  her  mother's  dear  friend,  for  her  uniform 
kindness  to  herself  and  her  husband,  and  for  the 
thousand  memories  and  ties  they  had  in  common. 

Even  Pauline  Borghese  took  a  mournful  leave  of 


iSi7-i82i-iJ^3^]       .17    XAl'Ol.EOX'S    COCRT  447 

her  saying,  "  Ah  !  Laura,  how  happy  you  are  !  Vou 
are  going  back  to  France — France !  "  and  she  bowed 
her  head  upon  her  hands  and  cried  bitterly. 

Laura's  position,  however,  was  by  no  means  an 
especially  happy  one.  She  had  failed  to  recover 
any  more  of  the  property,  and  the  future  of  her 
children  was  a  subject  of  much  anxiety  to  her. 

In  18 19  she  was  back  in  Paris,  and  having  decided 
to  take  a  house  for  a  time  in  the  country  where  she 
could  economise  and  get  her  affairs  put  in  order  and 
arranged  to  the  best  advantage,  she  persuaded  an 
old  friend,  the  Comtesse  de  la  Marliere  to  join  her. 
They  found  a  place  called  Orgeval,  quiet  and  peace- 
ful enough  though  not  more  than  twelve  miles  from 
Paris,  where  they  established  themselves. 

Laura  was  quite  happy  and  contented  there  with 
her  four  children  and  Madame  de  la  Marliere,  whom 
she  had  known  from  her  childhood  and  looked  upon 
as  a  second  mother.  They  read,  wrote,  took  long 
country  walks,  and  received  many  visits  from  friends 
in  Paris,  many  of  whom  reproached  Laura  for  bury- 
ing herself  in  such  seclusion  and  her  children  too 
just  as  her  daughters  were  grown  up  and  ought  to 
go  into  society. 

However,  they  remained  there  for  nearl)-  two  years, 
and  then  Laura,  who  found  the  place  rather  too 
retired  for  Josephine  and  Constance,  but  could  not 
afford  a  house  in  Paris,  removed  with  her  famih'  to 
Versailles,  where  life  was  much  less  expensive  and  by 
no  means  dull. 

There  was  plenty  of  society,  and  Josephine  and 
Constance  had  friends  and  amusements  to  their 
hearts'  content. 


448  A   LEADER   OF  SOCIETY      [1817-1821-1838 

They  lived  there  for  some  years  very  contentedly. 
Napoleon,  Laura's  eldest  son,  was  placed  at  the 
College  Henri  IV.  and  the  younger  one,  Alfred,  at 
Saint-Cyr. 

The  elastic  spirits  which  had  supported  Laura 
through  all  vicissitudes  and  trials  never  forsook  her, 
although  debts  and  difificulties  pressed  upon  her 
during  the  remainder  of  her  life,  and  often  she 
would  bitterly  regret  that  during  the  time  of  riches 
and  prosperity  she  had  wasted  her  money  instead  of 
saving,  like  so  many  of  her  friends,  a  sufficient 
provision   for  herself  and  her  children. 

No  part  of  Laura's  life  could  have  been  called  dull 
or  uninteresting.  Her  childhood  was  filled  with 
storms,  dangers,  and  terrors  ;  her  short  married  life 
from  sixteen  to  twenty-nine  was  one  of  splendour 
and  excitement,  and  in  her  later  years,  in  spite  of 
the  troubles  and  anxieties  caused  by  want  of  money, 
her  buoyant  spirits,  affectionate  nature,  and  social 
qualities  surrounded  her  always  with  numbers  of 
friends.  She  was  devoted  to  her  children  and  her 
brother,  and  strongly  attached  to  a  great  many  other 
people  with  whom  she  continually  associated  ;  in 
addition  to  which  a  new  interest  had  arisen  in  her 
life,  in  the  literary  work  to  which  she  now  turned 
her  attention. 

But  the  romance  and  adventures  of  her  career 
were  over,  and  from  the  time  when  at  thirty-seven 
she  went  to  live  at  Versailles  till  her  death,  which 
took  place  when  she  was  fifty-four,  there  is  nothing 
to  relate  which  would  equal  the  interest  attached  to 
the  former  part  of  her  life,  although  even  these  latter 
years,  passed  chiefly  at  Versailles  and  Paris  in  times 


I8I7-I838] 


AT  NAPOLEOXS  CO  CRT 


440 


still  eventful  and  amongst  persons  politically,  socially, 
and    intellectually    of    the    most    distinguished     in 


1III-:  urcHKssE  uahkaxiks  in   I.S.5 
(Boilly.) 


Europe,  would  probabl}-  contain  man\-  more  in- 
cidents worth  recording  than  a  number  of  the 
biographies  that  are  now  published. 

30 


450  A    LEADER   OF   SOCIETY  [1817-1838 

Most  of  Laura's  children  shared  her  literary  tastes. 
Her  daughters  took  the  deepest  interest  in  her 
writings,  in  some  of  which  they  assisted  her,  and 
both  of  them  and  their  eldest  brother  wrote  novels, 
essays,   and   various  other   books. 

Constance  married  a  former  garde-du-corps,  named 
Louis  Aubert,  and  Josephine,  who,  in  spite  of  her 
turbulent  proceedings  at  her  christening,  had  grown 
up  a  gentle,  unworldly  girl,  being  anxious  to  embrace 
a  religious  life,  was  made  clianoinesse,  by  Monseigneur 
Ouelen,  Archbishop  of  Paris,  a  great  friend  of  her 
mother's.  She  worked  for  a  time  as  a  Sister  of 
Mercy,  but  her  health  was  not  strong  enough  for  the 
hardships  of  such  a  profession,  and  she  returned  to 
the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes,  with  whom  she  remained 
until  the  death  of  the  latter.  After  they  left 
Versailles  they  had  an  apartment  in  the  Abbaye- 
aux-Bois,  where  Laura  spent  the  last  }-ears  of  her 
life,  devoting  herself  to  her  children,  her  friends,  and 
her  literary  pursuits,  in  which  she  was  extremely 
successful.  Her  novels  were  \ery  much  the  fashion 
for  a  time,  and  the  celebrated  memoirs  of  the 
Revolution,  Consulate,  and  Empire,  which  came  out 
in  1 831-1834  had  great  success,  and  are  amongst  the 
most  delightful  existing.  The  first  edition  was  in 
eighteen  volumes.  They  were  followed  b\-  the 
"  Memoirs  of  the  Restoration."  Among  her  other 
books  were  "  Les  Salons  de  Paris,"  "  Femmes  celebres 
dans  tons  les  pays,"  "  Scenes  de  la  vie  espagnole," 
"  L'Ojjale,"  "  La  Duchesse  de  Valombra)-,"  "  Les 
deux  ScEurs,"  &c. 

The  greatest  grief  that  befell  her  in  the  latter  j^art 
of  her  life  was  the  death  of  her    brother  Albert  in 


1817-1838]  AT  XAPOLEOX'S   COURT  451 

1828.  He  harl  been  always  more  like  a  father  than 
a  brother  to  her,  and  hi^i  loss  was  irreparable. 

She  died  at  the  Abbaye-aux-l^ois  on  June  7,  1838. 
Her  daughter  Josephine  afterwards  married  a 
Monsieur    A  met. 

Her  second  son,  Alfred,  of  whom  she  al\\a\-s  spoke 
with  the  greatest  pride  and  affection,  went  irito  the 
army  and  was  aide-de-camp  to  Marshal  MacMahon 
and  Prince  Jerome  Napoleon. 

As  to  her  elder  son.  Napoleon,  his  military  career 
ended  with  the  Polish  lancers  of  his  infancy.  He 
entered  the  diplomatic  service,  which  he  eventually 
was  obliged  to  leave  owing  to  the  scrapes  and 
scandals  in  w  hich  he  was  continualh^  involved,  and 
spent  the  rest  of  his  life  in  Paris,  where  he  wrote 
novels,  essa\'s,  articles,  &c. 

On  one  occasion  during  some  disturbance  in  Paris, 
he  was  standing  on  a  balcony  with  his  mother  when 
a  procession  of  the  rioters  passed  carrying  a  tricolor 
flag.  As  Laura's  eyes  rested  once  more  upon  that 
ensign,  to  some  so  accursed,  to  others  so  glorious,  all 
the  brilliant  days  of  her  youth  seemed  to  rise  again 
before  her.  Again  she  fancied  she  heard  the  shouts 
of  victory  and  saw  the  glory  of  France  and  the 
forms  and  faces  of  those  who  were  gone.  "  See  !  " 
she  cried,  "there  is  the  banner  under  which  \our 
father  fought  and  conquered  !  Salute  it."  And  she 
bowed  her  head  with  tears  as  it  passed. 


INDEX 


Abbaye-aux-bois,  360 
Abrantes,  298,  299 
Abrantes,  Duke  of  (sec  Junol) 
Abrantes,    Duchess    of    (see   Laure 

Permon) 
Aix-les-bains,  360,  361,  362,  363 
Albano,  440,  445,  446 
Alexandria,  battle  of,  183 
Almeida,  337,  338 
Amiens,  treaty  of,  195 
Angouleme,  Duchess  of,  417,  418 
Apparition,  384 
Arras,  219-223 
Artois  (Comte  de),  401 
Astorga,  324,  325 
Auerbach,  267 
Augereau,  129,  267,  272 
Austerlitz,  250 

Banquet,    Royalist,    19  ;  Bievre, 

209  ;  Marshals  of  France,   232  ; 

Cathcart     and      Bliicher,      410  ; 

Wellington,  420 
Bavaria,    marriage    of  Princess  to 

Eugene  de  lieauharnais,  250,  344 
Bautzen,  battle  of,  378 
Beauharnais    (Eugene   de,    Viceroy 

of  Italy),  123,  132,  146,  181,  182, 

250,  271 
Beauharnais  (Hortense  de,  wife   of 

Louis     Buonaparte,     (^ueen     of 

Holland),    132,    141,    146,    157; 

married  Louis    P.uonaparle,    164, 

204;    Queen    (ifllollaiid,     260, 

276,  291 
Beauharnais   (Stcjjhanie  de,  wife    of 

Prince  of  Baden),  253 


Beauharnais  (Emilie  de),  260,  no^e. 

Bemfica,  garden  of,  244 

Beaucaire,  fair  of,  68 

Bernadotte,  Marshal  of  France 
(King  of  Sweden),  89,  287,  326, 
359;  394.  408,  416 

Berthier  (Prince  de  Neuchatel, 
Marshal  of  France),  152,  249, 
257,  25S,  326,  327 

Bessieres,  Due  d'lstrie.  Marshal  of 
PVance,  129,  171,  284,  313,  376 

Bievre,  205,  209 

Bliicher,  394,  410,  411 

Bible  of  King  of  Portugal,  425 

Borghese  (Camillo,  Prince),  married 
Pauline  Buonaparte,  225  ;  in 
love  with  Laure,  25S,  259  ;  at 
Florence,  430 

Bourget  (Lake),  364 

Brigands,  chauffeurs,  95-100  ; 
Portuguese,  239-240 ;  Spanish, 
326,  344,  349  ;  Italian,  432,  433, 
434  ;  Gasparone,  437-44°  ; 
Decesaris,  440-445 

Burgos,  322-324 

Buonaparte,  Charles,  2-13 

Buonaparte  (Joseph,  Kingof  Spain), 
37  ;  marriage,  47  ;  head  of  family, 
87 ;  disapproval  of  murder  of 
Due  d'Enghien,  221  ;  consents 
to  Jerome's  marriage,  226  ;  King 
of  Naples,  260  ;  succession,  270, 
272  ;  Joseph,  King  of  Spain,  353  ; 
last  trium])h,  397  ;  capitulation 
of  Paris,  399  ;  flight  to  America, 
402 

Buonaparte  (m-  Napoleon). 


452 


IXDKX 


AS3 


Buonaparte  (Lucien,  I'rince  of 
Canino),  Republican,  87  ; 
quarrels  with  Napoleon,  15 1, 
181,  191,  225  ;  his  second  mar- 
riage, 227,  228;  succession,  270  ; 
Napoleon  and  Lucien,  295-298  ; 
prisoner  in  Knj^land,  318,  402  ; 
Hundred  days,  422  ;  Rome,  435  ; 
Tusculuni,  437  ;  \'illa    Rufinella, 

44' 
Buonaparte   (Louis,   King   of  Hol- 
land),  87;    married   to   Hortense 
de    Beauharnais,    164,   260,    265, 
270 
Buonaparte  (Jerome,  King  of  West- 
phalia), 76,  87,  93,  143;  American 
marriage,     226,     235-237,     260; 
marriage  with  Princess  Catherine 
of    Wurtemherg,     283-286,    290, 
292,  317,  492,  435      , 
Buonaparte,  Elisa  (set'  F)lisa) 
Buonaparte,  Pauline  (str  Pauline) 
Buonaparte,  Caroline  (sec  Caroline) 

Cacai'IT,  General,  340,  344 
Caldas  da  Kaynha,  haihs  of,  248 
Cambaccres  (Second  Consul),    177, 

268,  271,  272 
Canouville  (Colonel  de)  liaison  with 

Pauline,  Princess  Borghese,  256, 

257 
Canova,  434 
Caseaux  (Laure  de),  94,    107,   109, 

319.  430 
Castel  (iandolfo,  446 
Cathcart  (Lord),  407,408,  410,411, 

4>3 

Caroline  Buonaparte  (third  sister  of 
Napoleon,  wife  of  Joachim  Mu- 
ral, King  of  Naples),  called 
Annunciata,  88,  94  ;  married  .Mu- 
rat,  146-148,  203  ;  adventure  at 
Bievre,  206,  229,  252,  259,  261, 
268  ;  intrigue  with  Junot,  269  ; 
succession,  271  ;  theatricals,  275- 
276 ;  anger  of  Napoleon,  277- 
281  ;  Fontainehleau,  290,  299  ; 
Naples,  316,  317,  402-404 

Catherine  (Empress  of  Russia),  283, 
320 

Catherine  (Princess  of  Wurtem- 
burg,  wife  of  Jerome  Buonaparte, 


King    of    Westphalia),    281-285, 
402-434 

Cazotte  (prophecies  of),  6,  7,  8 

Caricatures,  174,  175 

Cere  (Monsieur  de),  his  tailcjr's  bill, 
160-162 

Charles  (Monsieur),  affair  of,  145, 
146 

Chauffeurs,  95-102 

Caulainci>urt  (Mar<iuis  de),  90,  115, 
125-130,  131,  145 

Chevreuse  (I)uchesse  de),  252,  253, 
286,  287,  288,  386 

Cintra,  246  :  treaty  of,  306 

Ciudad-Rodrigo,  339-344 

Comnenus  (family  oO,  i 

Comnenus  (Prince  Demetrius),  2, 
11  ;  reproof  to  Napoleon,  15; 
emigrated  and  returnefl  for 
Laure's  wedding,  122  ;  his  stain- 
less loyalty,  398 

Comnenus  (Abbe  de)  300 ;  saintly 
life,  381,  390,  398 

Comnenus  (Prince  George),  398 

Comnenus,  Panoria  (wife  of  Charles 
Pemion),  her  beauty  and  royal 
descent,  I  ;  Corsican  home,  2  ; 
marriage  and  children,  2  ;  dan- 
'gerous  illness,  3  ;  life  in  Paris 
bef(jre  the  Revolution,  4-1 1 ; 
kindness  to  Napoleon  and  friend- 
ship with  his  family  12-17  '»  meet- 
ing of  the  Stales-Cjeneral,  18: 
storming  of  the  IJastille,  19 ; 
horrors  and  dangers  of  the  Revo- 
lution, 20-27  '•  escapes  from 
Paris,  27  ;  returns  to  fetch  her 
children,  32  ;  Toulouse,  33  ;  l>ad 
health  of  M.  Permon,  }fl,  34; 
Albert,  Cccile,  and  Laure,  34  ; 
life  in  Toulouse,  marriage  of 
Cecilc,  35-41  ;  goes  to  Paris  with 
Laure,  43  ;  state  of  society,  43  ; 
intimacy  with  Napoleon,  44-52  ; 
fall  of  the  "  Montague,"  53  ; 
concealment  of  Salicetti  and 
escape  from  Paris,  54-68  ;  ^L 
I'ermon  in  safety,  they  return  to 
Paris,  69  ;  renewe<l  disturl>ances 
and  dangers,  71  ;  death  of  W. 
Permon,  72  ;  pt)verty  and  ilifii- 
culties,    73  ;  friendship  of  Napo- 


454 


IXDEX 


leon,  75  ;  his  proposals  of 
marriage,  75  ;  quarrel  witb  him, 
77,  78;  death  of  Cecile,  80; 
Cauterets,  81  ;  sa/on  of  Mme. 
Permon,  86  ;  her  ball,  91  ;  illness, 
96 ;  her  courage  and  good  spirits, 
103  ;  her  i^arties  and  balls,  103, 
105,  109  ;  arrangements  for  mar- 
riage of  Laure,  no;  conversa- 
tion with  her  son  Albert,  1 10, 
III  ;  the  religious  marriage,  119; 
iht  faubourg  St.  Germain  and  the 
new  society,  121-130;  Mme. 
Permon  gives  a  ball,  137-143;  her 
affection  for  Lucien,  151 ;  her  fail- 
ing health,  185  ;  her  death,  189 

Confirmation  and  first  Communion, 
81 

Confessional  (wood  of),  240 

Contade  (Madame  de),  91,  92,  93, 
240 

Concordat,  188 

Condorcet,  6,  7,  8 

Corvisart,  372 

Cobentzel  (Comte  de),  134  ;  theat- 
ricals, 178-180 

Davoust     (Prince     of    Eckmiihl, 

Marshal  of  France),  222,  267 
Decesaris  (brigand),  440-445 
Dupont-Derval  (General),  357 
Uuroc    (Duke    of    Friulia,    Grand 
Marshal  of  the  palace),  113,  122, 
131,   150,    155,    164,    217,    267; 
hatred    of  Josephine,    291,    300; 
friendship  with   Laure,   313,  366, 
367)   376;   last   letter   to   Laure, 
378  ;  killed  in  battle,  379 

Elisa  Buonaparte  (eldest  sister  of 
Napoleon,  Grand-Duchess  of 
Tuscany  and  Princess  of  Lucca, 
wife  of  Felix  Bacciocchi),  Eleve 
de  Saint-Louis,  13,  15  ;  unpopu- 
lar, 88  ;  absurd  costume,  125  ; 
(juarrel  with  Napoleon,  224  ; 
Lucca  and    I'iombino,   261 

Elizabeth,  Madame  (Phili])piiie- 
Marie-I  lelene  de  France),  34; 
murder  of,  41 

Enghien  ( Louis- Antoine-Henri  de 
Bourbon,  due  d'),  murder  of,  221 


Essling  (battle  of),  314 
Erfurt,  268,  366      ■ 
Eylau  (Ijaltle  of),  272,  273 

Fesch,     Cardinal,    74,    402,     435, 

443 
Florence,  431 

Fontainebleau,  112,  289,  400,  402 
Fox,  197 

Fouche,  156,  309,  310 
Foures  (Madame),  her  liaison  with 

Napoleon,  151-154 
Frascati,  446 

Gabkielij,  295,  297,  298,  434 
Ganache,  377 
Gasparone,  437-440 
Geouffre  [see  Cecile) 
Geneva,  362,  381,  430 
Grammont  (Duchesse  de),  9,  10 

HOTEL-DE-VlLLE,  304,   316 

Hundred  days,  422,  423 

ISABEY,   182 

Illyria,  376,  385 

Jac(,)Uemart,  31,  32 

Jena  (battle  of),  267 

[erome  {see  Buonaparte) 

Joseph  [see  Buonaparte) 

"Josephine  Tascher  de  la  Pagerie 
(married  (i)  V'icomte  Alexandre 
de  Beauharnais  ;  (2)  Napoleon  L, 
Emperor  of  France),  married  to 
Napoleon,  80 ;  opjiosed  Junot's 
marriage,  115;  Tuileries,  132; 
at  Mme.  Permon's  ball,  140 ; 
affair  of  M.  Charles,  145,  146  ; 
La  Malmaison,  161  ;  godmother 
to  Laure's  child,  200  ;  dejeuner 
and  ball,  ^02,  204  ;  coronation, 
228  ;  visit  to  Raincy,  269  ;  the 
succession,  271  ;  enmity  of  the 
Buonaparte  fixmily,  290 ;  fears 
and  depression,  315  ;  her  last 
ball  at  the  Hotel-de-Ville,  316  ; 
divorce,  316;  Aix-les-bains,  362; 
receives  visits  at  La  Malniaison, 
412,  413,  414 


INDEX 


^55 


Junot  (Andoche,  Due  d'Abraiitl-s) : 
friend  of  Napoleon,  48;  Pau- 
lette,  48  ;  Commandant  of  Paris, 
104;  Laure  I'ermon,  105-110; 
betrothal,  112-117;  marriage, 
11S-122;  insists  on  a  wedding 
dinner,  123,  126  ;  Mme.  Per- 
mon's  invitations,  136-140  ;  !M. 
Charles,  146;  attempt  to  assassi- 
nate the  First  Consid,  155  ; 
accident  to  Laure,  157 ;  San- 
terre,  158,  159;  La  Malmaison, 
171,  172;  loss  of  Egypt,  184; 
anxiety  for  Laure,  187  ;  Mme. 
Leclerc,  192;  licjeiiiicr  a\v\  ball, 
202  ;  extravagance,  204  ;  Pievre, 
208,  209  ;  diH'erences  with  Napo- 
leon, 210-212;  at  the  siege  of 
Toulon,  213;  imprisonment  of 
the  ICnglish,  216  ;  opposes  Napo- 
leon, 217,  218  ;  Arras,  219  ; 
murder  of  Due  d'Enghien,  221  ; 
fete  at  Poulogne  and  pensi(jn, 
223  ;  coronation,  228  ;  Ambassa- 
dor to  Portugal,  230 ;  Jerome 
Buonaparte,  235-237  ;  journey  to 
Lisbon,  238-242  ;  life  at  Lisbon 
and  Cintra,  242-248  ;  Brunn, 
249  ;  Governor  of  Parnn,  253  ; 
intrigues  and  liaisons,  254,  255  ; 
Governor  of  Paris,  264  ;  Raincy, 
265,  268  ;  Caroline  Mural,  269  ; 
the  succession,  270-272  ;  intrigue 
with  Caroline  ^Iurat,  273-276; 
anger  of  Napoleon,  277-281  ; 
sent  to  Lisbon,  286 ;  Abrantes, 
299 ;  New  Year's  present  to 
Laure,  300 ;  sinister  rumours, 
302,  304  ;  defeat  of  X'imeiro, 
305;  Treaty  of  Cintra,  306;  La 
Rochelle,  307  ;  Spain,  308  ; 
Saragossa,  309  ;  paid  for  jewels, 

313  ;     campaign    in     Germany, 

314  ;    Essling,     Wagram,     Paris, 

315  ;  ball  at  Il6tel-de-Ville,  316, 
317  ;  journey  to  Spain,  319-322  ; 
Burgos,  324  ;  X'alladolid,  324  ; 
Astorga,  324;  \'alladolid,  328; 
Massena,  329  ;  Ney,  332  ;  Sala- 
manca, 332  ;  Ciudad-Rodrigo, 
332-335  ;  Ledesma,  336  ;  San- 
l'"elices-cl-Grande,    337  ;    Portu- 


gal, 340 ;  Wellington's  letter, 
346 ;  Toro,  347  ;  return  to 
France,  350  ;  sent  to  Italy,  360  ; 
in  Russian  campaign,  363,  366  ; 
injustice  of  Napoleon,  367  ; 
despair  of  Junot,  368,  369  ;  his 
return,  372  ;  his  care  of  Laure, 
373  :  made  Governor  of  N'enice 
and  Illyria,  376  ;  'departure,  376  ; 
serious  illness,  380  ;  letter  from 
Napoleon,  380;  Charles  Maldan, 
382  ;  Junot  taken  to  Montbard, 
382  ;  he  appears  to  Laure,  383  ; 
his  death,  384 ;  his  last  letter  to 
Napoleon,  3S5 

Junot  (Laure)  (sci:  Laure) 

Junot  (Josephine)  (married  Mon- 
sieur Amet),  birth,  186  ;  christen- 
ing, 200,  211  ;  goes  to  Portugal, 
230-244,    260,     307,     317,     330, 

447,  450.  451 

Junot  (Constance),  married  Mon- 
sieur Aubert,  196,  230,  307,447- 
450 

Junot  (Napoleon),  294,  307,  364, 
447,  448,  451 

Junot  (Alfred),  343,  353,  447,  448, 

451 
Julian  (Don),  336,  343,  345,  347 

KiNc,  of  Rome,  352,  355,  356,  439 
Kleber,  153,  394 
Kremlin,  365 

Lannes  (Due  de  Montebello,  Mar- 
shal of  France),  85,  128,  129, 
200,  217,  267,  272,  273,  298; 
killed  at  F^ssling,  314 

Laure  Permon  (wife  of  Junot, 
Duchess  de  Abrantes),  birth,  i  ; 
Ouai  Conli,  10;  Puss-in-boots, 
17  ;  horrors  of  Revolution,  23,  26; 
Demoiselles  Chevalier's  school, 
27  ;  Jacquemart,  29  ;  September 
massacres,  30,  31  ;  Toulmise,  32  ; 
Paris,  43  ;  the  fish-wives,  49-51  ; 
Salicetti,  53-68  ;  Beaucaire  and 
Bordeaux,  68;  Hotel  de  I'Au- 
truche,  69  ;  disturbances  in  Paris, 
70;  illness  of  M.  I'ermon,  71  ; 
his  death,  72  ;  disastrous  state  of 
aftairs,    73,    74  ;     Cauterets   and 


456 


INDEX 


Paris,  8 1  ;  confirmation  and  first 
communion,  18-S3 ;  society  in 
Paris,  85  ;  illness  of  Mme.  Per- 
mon,  86;  her  ball,  91,  92;  the 
chauft'eurs,  95-102  ;  proposed 
marriages,  102  ;  Junot,  104  ;  the 
soiree  of  Mme.  Permon,  199  ; 
Junot  and  Laure,  ill  ;  the  First 
Consul,  114  ; -betrothal  of  Laure, 
115  ;  insists  on  a  religious  mar- 
riage, 120;  her  wedding,  122  ;  a 
mixed  party,  123-130;  presenta- 
tion at  the  Tuileries,  131-135  , 
Mme.  Permon's  ball,  136-143  ; 
attempt  to  assassinate  Napoleon, 
155;  accident  to  Laure,  157; 
Santerre,  158;  life  at  La  Mal- 
maison,  164 ;  adventure  with 
Napoleon,  165-172  ;  quarrel, 
173-175;  battle  of  Alexandria, 
183  ;  birth  of  Laure's  first  child, 
186  ;  Concordat,  188  ;  death  of 
Mme.  Permon,  189 ;  Mme. 
Leclerc,  191  ;  triumphs  of 
France,  195  ;  Laure's  second 
daughter,  196  ;  christening,  200  ; 
Hotel  in  the  Champs  Flysees, 
201  ;  dejeuner  and  ball,  203  ; 
Laure  and  Caroline  at  Bievre, 
209  ;  Napoleon  and  Junot,  210- 
212;  absurd  prejudices,  214; 
Arras,  219-223  ;  coronation, 
229  ;  Ambassadress  to  Portugal, 
230,  232  ;  fete  of  the  Marshals  of 
France,  232  ;  journey  to  Madrid, 
234 ;  Jerome  Buonaparte,  235  ; 
dangers  from  brigands,  238-240  ; 
Lisbon,  243  ;  Garden  of  Bemfica, 
244  ;  Cintra,  246 ;  Caldas  da 
Raynha,  248 ;  storm  on  the 
Tagus,  249 ;  Trafalgar,  250 ; 
return  to  France,  250  ;  house- 
hold of  Mme.  Mere,  251  ;  Junot 
and  Laure,  254,  255  ;  Prince 
Borghese,  258,  259 ;  conversa- 
tions with  Napoleon,  262,  263  ; 
Junot  Governor  of  Paris,  264  ; 
Kaincy,  266-268  ;  Caroline 
and  junot,  269  ;  theatricals 
at  La  Malmaison,  275  ;  Prin- 
cess Catherine  of  Wurtemburg, 
281-2S5  ;       the       'aiihoiiri;-      Si, 


Germain,  286-288 ;  Fontaine- 
bleau,  209  ;  liirth  of  Laure's  son, 
294;  extravagance  of  Junot  and 
Laure,  295  ;  Due  d'Abrantes, 
298;  anxiety  for  Junot,  301; 
interview  with  Napoleon,  301- 
303  ;  ball  at  liotel-de-Ville,  304  ; 
La  Rochelle,  307  ;  friendship 
with  Duroc,  '^'^Z'^  illness  of 
Junot,  314  ;  Cauterets,  314  ;  last 
appearance  of  Josephine  at  Hotel- 
de-Ville,  316  ;  Laure  and  Junot 
go  to  Spain,  319;  terrible  jour- 
ney, 322;  Burgos,  323;  Valla- 
dolid,  324  ;  Astorga,  325  ;  Mas- 
sena,  329  ;  Ney,  331  ;  Salamanca, 
332  ;  Ledesma,  336  ;  San-Felices- 
el-Grande,  337  ;  Almeida  on  fire, 
331  ;  Ciudad-Rodrigo,  339-344! 
Ijirth  of  second  son,  343  ;  Sala- 
manca, 345  ;  Toro,  347  ;  escape 
from  brigands,  349  ;  return  to 
France,  351  ;  changes  in  society, 
353  ;  Aix-les-bains,  360  ;  Geneva, 
362  ;  Paris,  364 ;  Russian  cam- 
paign, alarm  and  forebodings, 
365;  return  of  Napoleon,  366; 
letter  from  Junot,  367  ;  machin- 
ations of  Savary,  368  ;  successful 
interview  with  Napoleon,  370  ; 
illness,  372 ;  return  of  Junot, 
373  ;  Governor  of  Venice  and 
Illyria,  376  ;  friendship  of 
Lavalette,  378  ;  death  of  Uuroc, 
379  >  Junot's  illness,  380  ;  con- 
duct of  Savary,  380  ;  Geneva, 
381  ;  illness  of  Laure,  383  ;  an 
apparition,  383  ;  death  of  Junot, 
384  ;  return  to  Paris,  brutality  of 
Napoleon  and  Savary,  386-389  ; 
life  in  Paris,  391  ;  the  falling 
Fmpire,  394  ;  the  last  triumph, 
396  ;  the  Allies  at  Paris,  398 ; 
the  Emperor  Alexander,  404- 
407  ;  cosmopolitan  Society,  408- 
412;  Josephine,  412,  413;  the 
Emperor  Alexander,  416  ;  the 
Dauphine  of  France,  417  ;  Louis 
XVIIL,  419;  Wellington  and 
Metternich,  420;  splendid  dinner 
party,  420  ;  departure  of  Allies, 
422;  Ilnndred  days,   422,    423; 


IKDEX 


457 


J'cliirn  of  King  and  Allies,  423  ; 
King  of  rorlugal's  Bible,  424  ; 
Stephanopoli  and  ihe  secret 
society,  425-429  ;  journey  to 
Italy,  430;  Florence,  431  ; 
Italian  brigands,  432,  433  ; 
Rome,  enchanting  life,  old 
friends,  stories  of  brigands,  434- 
445  ;  Albano,  446  ;  Orgeval, 
447  ;  lives  at  Versailles,  447  ; 
Paris,  children,  society,  literary 
success,  447-450  ;  her  death, 
450 

Laval,  288 

Lavalette  (Comte  de),  378 

La  Malmaison,  161-177,  180-183, 
184,  412,  413 

Leclerc  (General),  193,  194 

Lenian  (Lake),  363 

Leipzig,  battle  of,  391 

Louis  XVIII.  (King  of  France), 
398,  418-420 

Lisbon,  243 

Louvre,  183 

Ledesma,  ^^^ 

Luneville  (peace  of),  183 

Liitzen  (battle  of),  376 

Luynes,  288 


M.MK,  250 

Madrid,  234,  250 

Marie  -  Louise  (Archduchess  of 
Austria,  Empress  of  France,  wife 
of  Napoleon),  326-328,  353,  361, 
377.  37^^,  398. 

Marengo  (battle  of),  277 

Marmont  (Duke  of  Ragiisa,  Mar- 
shal of  France),  222,  349,  350, 
361,,  398,  399 

Massena  (Prince  d'Essling,  Mar- 
shal of  France),  328-332,  339, 
340,    346,   398 

Mars  (Mademoiselle),  183,  275 

Metlernich,  392,  402,  409,  420, 
432 

Michau,  181,  182 

Mirabeau,  5,  134 

Montagne,'32,  51,  53 

Montebello  {see  Lannes) 

Mortefontaine,   266 

Moscow,  burning  of,  365 


Murat,  Joachim  (King  of  Naples), 
146-148,  208,  267,  271-273,  280, 
300,  367,  394 

Napoleon  (Buonaparte,  Kmperor 
of  France),  Ecole  Militaire,  13- 
16  ;  Puss-in-l)oots,  16,  17  ; 
Thirion,  23  ;  dangers  and  poverty, 
45  ;  General  livionaparle,  47  ; 
Junot,  48  ;  Sallicelti,  58-62  ; 
frientlship  with  the  I'ermons, 
70-74;  proposed  marriages,  75, 
76  ;  quarrel,  77,  79  ;  married  to 
Josephine,  80 ;  triumphs,  85  ; 
meeting  with  Madame  I'ermon, 
85  ;  Napoleon  and  Josephine,  89, 
90  ;  Egj'pt,  91  ;  makesjunot  Com- 
mandant of  Paris,  104  ;  marriage 
of  Junot,  114,  117,  118,  121  ; 
Tuiieries,  133-135  ;  Madame 
Permon's  ball,  140-143  ;  the 
Consular  Court,  144  ;  M.  Charles, 
145 ;  Murat,  147 ;  cpiarrel  with 
his  mother  and  Lucien,  151; 
Madame  Foures,  151-155  ;  at- 
tempted assassination,  155,  156; 
^^.  de  Cere,  157  ;  insists  on 
marriage  of  Louis  and  Hortense, 
164  ;  Napoleon  and  Laure,  165- 
177  ;  theatricals,  177,  178  ; 
Isabey,  182;  Luneville,  Egypt, 
183,  184  ;  plans  for  invasion  of 
England,  185  ;  Junot,  187  ;  Con- 
cordat, 187,  188,  190,  192,  193  ; 
tyranny  and  injustice,  194;  a 
liaison,  194,  195  ;  Treaty  of 
Amiens,  195;  14th  of  July,  199; 
christening,  200,  201  ;  Consulate 
for  ten  years,  202  ;  dejeuner  and 
ball,  203-204 ;  quarrels  with 
Junot,  210-213  !  imprisonment 
of  English,  217-219;  murder  of 
Due  d'Enghien,  220  ;  review  at 
Boulogne,  222,  223  ;  quarrel  with 
Elisa  and  marriage  of  Pauline, 
224,  225 ;  ijuarrels  with  Lucien 
and  Jerome,  226,  227  ;  Corona- 
tion 228 ;  the  Ambassadress  to 
Portugal,  230,  232  ;  another 
liaison,  232,  233  ;  Lucca,  I'arma, 
and  Piacenza,  248  ;  war  declared. 


458 


INDEX 


24S ;  Brunn,  249 ;  Ulm,  Aus- 
terlitz,  and  Trafalgar,  250  ; 
dislike  to  be  considered  Italian, 
250  ;  Colonel  de  Canouville, 
257  ;  "  The  inheritance  of  the 
King,  our  father,''  259-261  ; 
Madame  la  Gouverneuse,  261- 
264 ;  campaign  in  Germany, 
265-268  :  quarrel  of  Napoleon 
with  Lannes,  272  ;  his  anger 
with  Junot,  277-281,  282;  Fon- 
tainebleau,  2S9  ;  new  liaison, 
290;  Lucien,  291-297;  new 
creations,  298  ;  brutal  cynicism, 
300 ;  Peninsular  War,  301  ; 
interview  with  Laure,  302-304  ; 
ball  at  Hotel-de-Ville,  305  ; 
Treaty  of  Cintra,  206  ;  treat- 
ment of  Madame  de  Stael  and 
Madame  Recamier,  309-312  ; 
conversation  with  Duroc,  313  ; 
treatment  of  Josephine,  315-317  ; 
divorce,  317  ;  quarrel  with  the 
Pope,  318  ;  Marie-Louise,  353, 
354  ;  King  of  Rome,  355,  356  ; 
contrast  between  Napoleon  and 
the  Yalois  and  Bourbons,  357  ; 
his  Polish  love  affair,  358,  359  ; 
Count  Walewski,  359 ;  invasion 
of  Russia,  360;  Russian  cam- 
paign, 360-365;  the  Kremlin, 
365  ;  treatment  of  Junot,  367  ; 
grants  Laure's  petitions,  369-372  ; 
caricatures  and  epigrams,  374, 
375  ;  German  campaign,  375  ; 
une  ganache,  377  ;  death  of 
Bessieres  and  Duroc,  379 ;  ill- 
treatment  of  Junot,  380  ;  brutality 
to  Laure,  385  ;  defeat  at  Leip- 
zii^i  391  ;  Napoleon  at  Saint 
Cloud,  393  ;  fail  of  the  Empire, 
394,  396  ;  abdication  of  Napoleon, 
402;  his  journey,  413,  414;  the 
Hundred  days,  422;  Waterloo, 
423 

Nai'IER,  298,  312 

Narbonne,  353,  387,  388,  391^394 

Necker,  18 

Nelson,  185  ;  death  of,  250 

Neuilly,  295,  300 

Nty    (Marshal     of    Liarce,    Prince 


de   la  Moskova),   267,   322,   324, 
328,  330-332,  2>1>1,  345'  354 

Office  of  expiation,  401,  402 
Orgeval,  447 
Orleans  (Due  d'),  5 

Permox  (Charles),  i,  10,  23-26, 
32,  68,  69,  70-71,  72,,  73 

Permon  (Albert),  2  ;  Ecole  Mili- 
taire,  13;  sent  to  England,  21; 
horrors  of  the  Revolution,  23-31  ; 
Toulouse,  32-40  ;  Paris,  43  ; 
Salicetti,  53  ;  Hotel  del'Autruche, 
69,  70  ;  death  of  his  father,  72  ; 
poverty,  73  ;  applies  to  Napo- 
leon, 74  ;  refuses  to  marry 
Pauline  Buonaparte,  78 ;  death  of 
Cecile,  80  ;  goes  to  Italy,  81  ; 
love  affair,  85  ;  chauffeurs,  97- 
102  ;  Laura's  marriage,  i  lO-i  13  ; 
the  contract,  116,  118  ;  the 
religious  marriage,  1 20-122  ; 
Mme.  Permon's  ball,  137-143, 
189,  366  ;  machinations  of 
Savary,  369  ;  appointment  given 
by  Napoleon,  371  ;  consoles  his 
sister,  379,  381  ;  Geneva,  382  ; 
goes  to  ]\Iontbard  to  nurse  Junot, 
383,  384  ;  returns  with  Laura  to 
Paris,  386  ;  last  triumph,  396  ; 
lives  with  Laura  in  Paris,  398  ; 
appeal  to  the  King,  417  ;  his 
death,  450 

Permon  (Cecile),  2,  4,  17,  24  ; 
school  of  the  Demoiselles  Cheva- 
lier, 27,  28,  29  ;  September 
massacres,  30,  31  ;  Toulouse,  32  ; 
M.de  Geouffre,  38-41  ;  marriage 
of  Cecile,  41,  45  ;  her  death,  80 

Perigord  (Comtc  de).  11,  43,  44 

Pius  VH.,  1 28,  318,  436 

Pauline  Buonaparte  (second  sister 
of  Napoleon,  married  (1) 
General  Leclerc ;  (2)  Camillo, 
Prince  Borghese,  Duchess  of 
Guastalla),  Junot,  48,  76  ;  her 
beauty  and  (oily,  88  ;  ball,  91-93 ; 
jealousy  of  her  sister,  94  ;  spite 
against  Josephine,  145  ;  St. 
Domingo,  190-194  ;  wedding 
visit,     225  ;    liaisons,     256-258  ; 


IXDEX 


459 


T)urhc.-.s  of  ("iiiastalla,  260  ; 
Neuilly,  295  ;  Ai.\-Ies-1  ains,  161  ; 
Smith  of  France,  402-414  ; 
Koiiif,  4J5  ;  farewell  to  Laure, 
447 

QuKi.KN  (Arclibislioi)  of  I'aris),  450 

Ramoi.ino  (Livlilia,  wife  of 
Charles  Huonaparle,  mother  of 
Naf>ole<jn),  2-13  ;  I'aris,  87,  93, 
94-115  ;  takes  the  side  of  Lucien 
against  Napoleon,  151,  225  ; 
consents  to  Jerome's  marriage, 
226;  Madame  Mere,  251-253; 
reproof  to  Pauline  Borijhese,  256, 
262-263  ;  Kaincy,  268  ;  Ai\-les- 
hains,  360,  361  ;  fiitjht,  402  ; 
Rome,  434  ;  Alhano,  446 

Kai^usa  (Duke  of)  {sir  Marmonl) 

Kaincy,  266-289,  295 

Rapp  (General),  122,  125-127,  131, 
157,  184.  298 

I'vC'camier  (Mailamc),  309-312,  363, 

3^5-389 
Rome,  432-446 
Rohesjiierre  (death  of),  41 
Rovit^o  (Duke  of)  {see  Savary) 
Rufinella-villa,  441 

S.WARY  (Due  de  Roviijo),  161,  298, 

3<^9.  379-3^  I  >  404-405 
Saint   Ange  (Madame  de),    37-40, 

41,  69 
Salamanca,  338,  345,  347,  363 


San-l""elices-el-(>rande,  337 
Salicetti,    33,   34,   35,   37,    52,    53. 

54  67 
Santerre,  158 
Saragossa,  308,  309 
Soult    (Marshal    of    France),    267- 

312,  329,  391,  398 
Suchet,  185.  203,  323,  359  4'5 
Slephanopoli-Diiio,  77,  78 
Stephanopoli,  425-429 
St.  Domingo.  1 90- 193 
.Stael  (Ma(lame  de),  309 
-St.  Cloud,  211.  225,  327,  393 

T.M.MA,    183,   361,   362 

Tilsit,  peace  of,  277 

Terni,  433,  434,  446 

Toro,  347 

Toulouse,  32,  43 

Trafalgar,  250 

Tusculuni,  441 

Trianon    yiVt'  of  St.  Louis,  354 

Ui.M,  250 

\'ai.i,ai)Oi.ii),  324,  347 
X'imeiro  (battle  of),  305 
\'ersailles,  18,  19,  387,  447,  44S 

Warsaw,  359 
Wagram,  314,  359 
Walewsky,  359 
Waterloo,  423 

Wellington    (Duke    oO,    305,    316, 
359,  363.  394.  410,  420,  421 


t.NWl.N   UKOlUhKb,   LlMirtU,    lilt  UKfcSHA.il   I'Kfcbii,   WOKl.Nii  AND  LU.NLio.N. 


BY  THE  SAME  AU'IHOR. 

Lives    and    Times    of    the 
Early  Valois  Queens. 

Illustrated  by  E.  II.   Beakne. 
Price  \os.   6d. 

"  INIrs.  Bearne  has  tapped  a  rich  vein  of  history  and  produced  an 
interesting  book."'  —  Times. 

"  As  a  presentation  of  French  politics  and  Court  life  at  a  lime  of 
peculiar  interest  to  the  English,  nothing  could  be  better." —  Yorkshire  Post. 

"  In  this  delightful  volume  .  .  .  are  given  graphic  details  of  the  lives 
and  times  of  three  Valois  queens." — Aberdeen  Free  Press. 

"  It  is  far  more  than  a  dry  record  of  the  three  queens." — Literature. 

"The  general  reader  .  .  .  will  be  delighted  with  this  book." — 
Spectator. 

Pictures  of  the  Old  French 
Court. 

Illustrated  by  E.  H.  Bearne. 
Price  lO.f.  dd. 

"  A  book  of  this  description  conveys  more  knowledge  of  French 
history  to  the  average  reader  than  would  half  a  dozen  ordinary  history 
books  that  are  full  of  facts  and  nothing  more." — World. 

"An  extremely  interesting  volume." — Dundee  Advertiser. 

"  Mrs.  Bearne  has  a  personal  vision  of  mediaeval  Paris  which  might 
have  added  a  chapter  to  Hugo's  '  Notre  Dame.'  " — Speal;cr. 

"  Mrs.  Bearne's  volume  takes  us  back  to  times  which  were  mad  and 
bad  and  sweet,  and  the  actors  in  them  were  very  merry  and  often  very 
miserable  indeed." — Spectator. 

London  :   T.    FISHER   UNWIN. 

The  Cross  of  Pearls ; 

Or,    the   Story  of   a   French    Family  in 
the   Fourteenth   Century. 

Illustrated  by  E.   H.   Bearne. 
Price  5.V. 
"  A  pretty  little  romance  of  fourteenth-century  I<" ranee,  full  of  the 
bustle  of  warfare,  with   charming   pictures  of  mediivval   life  clustered 
round  the  fortunes  of  a  pair  of  noble  lovers." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 
"  \  beautiful  and  convincing  fiction." — Dundee  Advertiser. 
"  A    singularly  natural   and    charming  sketch   of   the    home   life   of 
I'Vancu  in  the  fourteenth  century." — Nottingham  Guardian. 

London  :    ELLIOT    STOCK. 


NOV  12  1981 
DATE  DUE 


m  jb, 

f      I    iJuD 

JUNI7 

198b    ' 

CAYLORO 

rRINTCO  IN  U.S    A. 

|DC198    AJ2B4 

iBearne,    Catherine    Mary 

Charlton . 
A    daughter    or    the    revolution 


AA     001374  923 


3  1210  00336  5374 


